


i just know i have found the place my heart belongs

by scagnetism



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (not really though Louis just works at one part time mostly), Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Cupcakes, Flirting, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Character Death, so...basically fluff and good things, that bit is very vague and happens offscreen, there is a looooot of fluff but that's just expected of me at this point, toy shop, umm what else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 07:39:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 32,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8740777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scagnetism/pseuds/scagnetism
Summary: “Gracie loves faeries, don’t you, little love?” Louis asks, cutting through Harry’s thoughts, and she spares a glance over her shoulder at her father, nodding quickly before looking back at the house and touching it with gentle fingers.Harry looks up at him, and they share a small smile, Louis making him feel warm, warm, warm.  “This is her house, and it’s my favorite thing in my shop,” Harry explains, and Louis crouches slightly so he can see it better.“’S beautiful,” he murmurs, and Harry smiles appreciatively at him.Harry looks at Gracie again, blonde hair falling into her face as she inspects the glittery house, and he instinctively tucks her hair back behind her ear.  “I’ve never seen the faerie,” he says to her softly, “but sometimes, when it’s very quiet, I can feel her.”  He closes his eyes, taking in a breath, just sitting like that for a few seconds for the effect.  “That’s how I know she’s watching over me.”Or, the one where Louis has a quiet little girl, Harry has a toy shop with a magic faerie house, and they were made to fall in love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly can't believe I've actually finished this fic, AND that it's the longest thing I've ever written. I've had the idea for probably about two years, and I've always said I was going to write it one day, but I never got around to it, so here I am finally!! It's based on my favorite Hallmark movie, Christmas With Holly, but it strays a bit and I'm sorry to say that ironically enough, my fic includes no mention of Christmas. Everyone should go watch the movie at some point if they have the time, though - it's the best :)
> 
> I couldn't have done this without Katelyn (the creator of Breep) who is there for me every time I write something to encourage and edit and drag me in the way only best friends do; Leah who is one of the best fic cheerleaders in the world and who helped me figure out bits of the plot more times than I can count; Dee and Ivana who are the queens of reading random scenes out of order and cheering me on; and literally anyone who I've bitched/gushed/whined about this fic to...thank you!
> 
> A song I had in mind the whole time I was writing is [Farewell, December](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZ0zqDTE8C4) by Matt Nathanson, so you can have a listen to that if you so desire :)
> 
> Title is from Delta Goodrem's [Angels in the Room](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOzidV3ImOM), which I think fits this fic quite well, too!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this fic! I'm so excited about it :)

“Gracie, are you ready to go?”

The little girl pulls at her pink backpack strap, face schooled into a look of concern as she stares up at her uncle.  It tugs on Louis’ heart watching how nervous she is, but he swallows his own nerves in favor of making her feel better.  

“Hey,” he says softly, kneeling down to be eye level with her, touching his finger to her chin so she’ll look at him.  “You’re gonna smash it today, yeah?”  She twirls a strand of blonde around her finger, eyes still locked on Louis’ face. “I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends, and everyone’s gonna love you.”  He kisses her head, and she stays quiet.  She hasn’t said anything since _everything_ happened, and Louis can’t really blame her, can’t fathom how big this loss must be to someone so small.  He’s still grieving himself, but he doesn’t have time to mourn when he has a beautiful six-year-old to take care of.

He wonders if he’s doing the right thing.

The thought crosses his mind several times a day, especially when it hits him that Gracie hasn’t said a single word in three months, but he shakes it off because he wouldn’t have been chosen as her guardian if this wasn’t what Charlotte wanted.  He misses her so much.  Gracie misses her so much.

“You guys leavin’?” Liam asks, walking into the kitchen still in his pajamas and causing Louis to jump slightly.  He’s only a bit envious his best friend can lounge around for a few more hours.

“It’s Gracie’s first day at her new school!” Louis replies, and Liam’s expression changes completely as he gasps.

“First days are the most important days!” he tells her, and she nods gently, head tilted in amusement. She looks so much like Charlotte sometimes, and it makes Louis’ chest tighten.  “Did Lou pack you biscuits in your lunch?  Cause on my first day, ages ago now, my mum didn’t pack me biccies, and I had to steal them from the girl who sat next to me.  Don’t want you to have to live the same nightmare!”

Gracie barely reacts, but Louis laughs loudly, squeezing at her hand.  “’Ve got you all covered, babe.  She’s got some nice chocolate digestives in her lunchbox.”

“Oh, and let me see that lunchbox!” Liam exclaims, and she hesitantly holds it out toward him.  Louis is so thankful for him being so kind and for letting them move into his flat while they get settled.  “Excellent choice, Miss Gracie.  I’m sure all your new friends will love Peppa Pig.”

Louis smiles, glancing over at the clock just to make sure they don’t have to leave yet – he refuses to get there late on the first day.  He’s never been the most punctual, but he’s trying, _trying_.  It’s only a short walk, but they’ll have to leave soon.  “Where’s Niall?  Thought he was coming over this morn?”

“Still asleep, I guess. I heard he had quite a night out,” Liam answers, heading to the fridge scanning the contents before shaking his head and closing the door again.  “Lucky bastard.”

Louis clicks his tongue, tipping his head toward Gracie who just looks up at him with wide blue eyes. “Language, Payno.”

“Lucky...dude.”  He finishes with a weary smile, closing the fridge as Louis pats him on the back.  

“Good lad.  Guess we’ll have to go without seeing Uncle Niall,” Louis says, nudging Gracie’s shoulder gently.  “Ready to go?”

She looks up at him, nodding, and lets him take her hand in his without a fight.  He knows she’ll talk when she’s ready, but a part of him wishes she’d just tell him how she’s feeling, what she’s thinking so he could help her properly.  He doesn’t know anything about raising a kid, let alone one that won’t talk to him at all.

“Have a good day, Gracie!” Liam tells her happily, all crinkled eyes and warm smile.  He waves to her, and she acknowledges him with another nod before looking up at Louis again through Charlotte’s blue eyes.

As they start out the door, Louis fills their silence with absent chatter, telling her, “You’re gonna have the absolute best day today, ladybug.  Think of all the fun things you’ll get to do!  I loved primary school meself.  That’s where I met Uncle Liam!  Did you know that?”  He looks down at her, and she shakes her head, eyes still fixed on the sidewalk. “Haven’t been able to get rid of him since.”  He chuckles despite himself, and Gracie remains quiet, squeezing a little tighter at his hand.

“If you need anything, you can always go to your teacher, yeah?  And you can let her know something’s wrong or if she needs to call me or something.  ‘M sure that won’t happen, though,” Louis says, swinging their hands, and when he looks down, Gracie is smiling just slightly.  “Cause you’re brilliant, and today is gonna be wicked.”

He lets the rest of their short walk pass without any chatter, and when they reach the school, Gracie’s grip on his hand tightens.  He squats down to be eye level with her, her piercing eyes almost looking right through him.  “There’s nothin’ to worry about, little love,” he whispers, planting a kiss on her head.  “And if anyone’s mean to you, I’ll beat ‘em up.”  That earns him another small smile, and he considers it a win when she reaches for his hand again as they start into the school.

He helps her find her classroom, and he’s relieved to find out that her new teacher is just as lovely as she seemed during their multiple phone conversations.  His aim was to find someone who wouldn’t try to force Gracie to talk when she wasn’t ready, and Mrs. Jones seemed to be the perfect fit. He really, really hopes that Gracie likes it here, that he’s doing the right thing.

Louis sees her off with a big hug and a kiss, reassuring her that he’ll be back to pick her up in a few hours and that she’ll be absolutely fine without him.  Mrs. Jones had taken Gracie’s hand, and she’d waved to Louis as he stood outside the door before finally tearing his eyes away and leaving to go back home.

Fuck.

On the walk back, he finds himself teary-eyed, and it hits him that this is what parenthood is like. He doesn’t get to be the cool uncle that shows up every few months with a handful of presents – those days are long gone.   He hadn’t planned to sign up for this at 25, always wanted to wait until he was a little older to start his family, but this is his life now, the hand he was dealt, and he has to embrace it.  

His old life consisted of him working at a bar in the city with nights binge drinking and chain smoking out on the balcony of his old flat.  He loved it, loved every carefree moment, but he wouldn’t trade this change of pace. He loves his niece, and he knows his sister would be so proud of him for stepping up.

But that doesn’t mean he knows a damn thing about raising a kid.

Dragging a finger under his eyes to catch the tears that haven’t yet fallen, Louis takes in a shaky breath, and again the thought floods his mind – _is he even doing the right thing?_

He knows his two best friends don’t necessarily think so.  He’s seen the looks they give him when he tries his hardest to make conversation with Gracie and receives only blank stares in return, he’s seen them stop talking to each other completely when he walks in the room, knowing he was undoubtedly the subject of their conversation.  But even though he has his moments of doubt, his gut tells him he’s right, and that’s what he chooses to believe.

He makes his way home in a fog, thoughts whirling.  He’s anxious and knows he will be all day even though he thinks he’s definitely made the right decision bringing Gracie back home and starting her at a new school. He mentally makes a checklist of all the things he needs to have done by the time he picks her up and heads off to work today, including grocery shopping and paying his credit card bill. By the time he gets back into the house, he can hear the shower running, and he makes himself a bowl of cereal.

He sits down at the kitchen table just as Liam pads into the kitchen.  “How did she do?” he asks, brows furrowed.

“Good, I think,” Louis tells him, nodding as he takes a bite.  “I reckon it’ll be good for her, but I’m still so fucking scared she’ll hate it.” He laughs humorlessly, and Liam pats his shoulder as he walks by, picking up the box of cereal off the counter. “She wouldn’t tell me if she did, so I just feel like I’m guessing about everything.”

Liam lets out a snort of a laugh, nodding as he pulls a bowl out of the cabinet.  “I think you can figure out what’s best,” he replies, and Louis just hums in response.

He fixes his bowl of cereal and sits down across from Louis.  “Oh my god, you’re proper nervous about this, mate,” Liam says, and there’s laughter in his voice that Louis hates.  “It’s just primary!  She’ll be fine.”

He knows Liam won’t understand, knows he doesn’t understand what it’s like to be responsible for another life, so he gives him a small smile and nods, stirring his spoon around in his bowl.  He scrolls through the calendar on his phone, leaning his elbows on the table, and groans when he sees when he’s scheduled to work today.  “Fuck,” he grumbles, “’M gonna be late for my shift because Niall has me scheduled when I have to pick up Gracie.”

Liam stops eating his cereal then, pauses with his spoon halfway to his mouth, and Louis can just feel the words that aren’t being said hanging in the air above them.  He makes eye contact with him, and Liam takes in a breath, sympathetic smile tugging at his lips.  He hates that look, and he’s seen it too many times over the past few months.  “Can you just spit it out, Payno?” Louis snaps after a few moments of weighted silence.

“Are you sure this is the right thing to be doing, Louis?” Liam asks, and Louis feels himself deflate when he hears it out loud, even though he knew that’s what he was going to say. He knows he’s coming from a good place, knows he doesn’t mean it in _that_ way, but it still makes his blood boil.  “’S just...”

“No, I know,” he answers easily, scrubbing his hands over his face, and he’s thought about this so many times.  It’s kept him up at night wondering if he’s making the right decision, agonizing over what would really be best for Gracie since he knows nothing about being a parent, and before he can say anything else, Liam is speaking again.

“All I’m saying is that you were happy and had a decent job, and you could call your mum up and have her take Gracie.  Maybe that’d get her speaking again, like, that normalcy of family, since she hasn’t said a word in a couple months, and it’d all be fine, y’know, and you could go back to your old life, Lou.  No one would think any less of you for doing it.”

He stands to his full height, turning to face Liam.  He just doesn’t _get_ it, and he supposes no one would, really, until they’re put in his situation, but god, it _stings_.  “She picked _me_ as the guardian, Liam.   _Me_ . Not me mum, not Fiz, not _anyone else_ , so Gracie is my responsibility, and I’m not gonna go fuck off and leave her with me mum because it’s more convenient for me.  The last fucking thing I wanna do is let Charlotte down, okay?  So, why don’t you just fuck off?”

Liam purses his lips before finally bringing his spoon the rest of the way up to his mouth, and Louis breathes shakily.  “I just want the best for you,” he says, voice thin, knowing he’s treading on delicate ground.  “And Gracie.”

“And I’m gonna try to give her the best,” Louis replies, and there are inexplicably tears in his eyes that he tries to blink away, busying himself with scrolling through twitter to stop the sudden onset of emotion.  “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I love her so much, and I know that’s what Charlotte would want, okay?  So, I have to try, Liam.  I can’t just give up.”  His voice is shaking and there’s a lump in his throat he can’t swallow, but Liam nods.

Louis squeezes his eyes shut against the tears that continue to well, and Liam pats his shoulder gently as he gets up to rinse out his bowl.  “Trying is all you can do, Lou.”

*

As Harry looks at the sign for his toy shop, it all seems a bit surreal.   _Faith,_ _Trust, & Pixie Dust_ is painted in beautiful script font, white on a light pink background, and he can’t help but smile (and maybe tear up just a little bit) when he thinks about how this is _all his_.  He takes out his phone to snap a photo, quickly sending it in a text to his mum before pocketing his phone.

He can’t believe he’s really doing this.

He can’t believe he ever thought law school was the answer for him when something like this makes him so incredibly happy.

Harry feels a hand on his shoulder and turns around to see his sister Gemma grinning at him.  “Looks fantastic, Hazza.  All the wee ones are gonna love it.”

He chuckles, putting his gloved hand over hers and taking in a deep breath.  “I hope so.”

“Well, c’mon then!  I’m freezing my arse off!  Let’s go in and have a look around!”

A grin tugs at Harry’s lips as he nods and digs the key out of his pocket.  There’s a light dusting of snow fluttering to the ground, and it’s cold, even in his gloves his fingers are starting to go numb, but he just wants to stand outside at stare at the sign a little while longer.  He takes in a breath and decides he can do that later, giving it one last look before sticking the key into the lock.

When he pushes open the door for the first time, he’s overwhelmed with the smell of fresh paint, and he chokes back a cough, shaking the snow out of his hair.  The walls are painted a light pink with a soft fluffy carpet lining the floors.   When he flicks on the light, he notices the pile of flower and faerie decals sitting on the floor, waiting to find their home on the walls.  “’S beautiful,” he breathes, looking around the empty shop in wonder.

Gemma nods, grinning as she pulls her gloves off and tucks them in the pocket of her coat.  “I love it,” she tells him, resting her arm on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, little bro.” She presses a kiss to his cheek, and he smiles.

“This is exactly what I pictured,” he says, and he closes his eyes as he tries to envision how everything will look once it’s in its rightful place.

“This pink is perfect for that faerie house of yours.”

That makes him go warm all over as he looks at her.  His prized possession for his shop is a faerie house complete with tiny furniture and muted lights, surrounded by the smallest flowers.  He found it at an antique shop months ago, and there’s some sort of magic pull to it.  Maybe real faerie magic, he supposes, since the entire thing is coated with a soft layer of iridescent glitter that’ll shimmer nicely under the shop’s lights.  Something about it had tugged at his heart, and he knew he absolutely had to have it to put on display.  He isn’t sure he could ever part with it, but he still likes to imagine how the kids’ eyes will light up when they see it, when he tells them there’s a real faerie that watches over his shop every day, making sure to keep him and all the other toys safe.  It makes him grin as he pulls the scarf off his neck and hangs it on the lone coat rack in the corner.

“I think the faerie will love her new home here.”

Gemma giggles as Harry takes his coat from her and adds it to the rack on top of his.  “Kinda wanna sleep on this carpet.  It’s so soft.”

“There’s no time for sleeping! We’ve gotta get unpacking!” Harry tells her cheerily, clapping his hands.  “Nick called and told me all the toys were delivered, and they’re in the back room.  Just waiting for us to set them all up!”

Gemma lets out a whine, pushing her lips into a pout, and Harry just rolls his eyes, knowing she’ll give in without a fight.  “I didn’t come here for manual labor, H.  I came here to watch all the cute kids get excited over all the faerie magic in here.”

“Aren’t you lucky that you get to do both, then?” he replies with a wink, and Gemma laughs a little, shaking her head.

“You owe me one.”

“Thank you, dear sister,” Harry tells her, skipping over to her to plant a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek. She drags her hand down her face, then wipes it on his shirt before starting to tickle him.  “Gems, no!” he squeaks as he tries to move away, Gemma hot on his heels, and she lets out a devious cackle as she pokes his stomach and he shoves her back good naturedly.

“’M gonna get you for that!” she shouts, starting to chase him around the empty store, and they run in circles after each other.  

It takes Harry back to days in the backyard, playing until the sun would go down and coming inside covered in grass stains while their mum tutted at them before putting their clothes in the laundry.  A part of him thinks that if his toy store can bring he and Gemma this much nostalgia, there could be some sort of real magic floating through the air.  

“Nuh-uh!  You’ll never catch me!” he yells.  At that, Gemma jumps on his back, and he lets out an oof, collapsing to the floor in a heap of laughter, a mess of limbs and wild hair.

“I was right – I could fall asleep right here,” Gemma says with a content sigh, running her hand over the carpet, and Harry gently shoves her face with his hand, laughing loudly.  “Think you’re cut out for this toy business since you’re just an overgrown child yourself.”  

He knows to take statements like that as a compliment, so he just chuckles a little before putting his arm around her.  “Thank you, I do try.  Now are you ready to unpack?”

He’s met with a groan.

“I promise I’ll buy you Chinese takeaway later.”  It’s his turn to pull out his best pout.

She considers it for a moment, tapping her chin thoughtfully, and Harry already knows what the answer will be. “Deal.”

*

A few hours later when things are mostly unpacked and it looks closer to a toy store than a vacant room, Harry decides they can stop for a little while.  He won’t admit it, but the small of his back is starting to ache from bending over to unpack things, and he could really go for an afternoon pick-me-up.

Mostly, though, he’s starting to watch his shop take shape, and there’s excitement bubbling in his belly when he thinks about it.

“I think we deserve a break,” Harry says, yawning into the back of his hand as he tugs his scarf and coat off the rack standing in the corner. “And I saw a coffee shop down the street that looks very cute.”

Gemma nods, dramatically making prayer hands.  “I thought I’d _never_ hear those words,” she answers, following Harry as she pulls her coat off the rack, too, and tugs a beanie over her hair.  He just petulantly sticks his tongue out at her in response.  “You and your coffee,” she says, nudging his shoulder with her own. “Are you even a Brit?”

“Shush,” Harry laughs, opening the door and shivering as the wind hits them straight in the face.  He shoves his hands into his pockets and puts his head down as they start walking toward the shop, wind whipping at their faces. They don’t say much, too cold and tired after a long day of working, but Harry’s glad to have Gemma’s company, knowing he couldn’t do this without her.

When they reach the shop, hand resting on the door handle, he asks, “Do you want anything?”

“I’ll take a tea, black, please. I’ll stay out here, though, cause Krystal’s been calling me all day and I’ve ignored her in favor of helping _you_ , baby bro,” Gemma says, scrunching her face into a grin as she pinches his cheek. He swats her hand away with a fond roll of his eyes.

“’M a grown man,” he argues, and Gemma smiles.

“With a toy shop,” she amends.

Harry chuckles, pushing open the door to the coffee shop, overhead bells chiming. “With a toy shop.”  She shakes her head lovingly, putting her phone to her ear.

The heat from the store warms Harry almost instantly when he steps inside.  It’s quaint, small, and cozy with handwritten menu boards, a few small tables, and worn out couches in the corner.  A blonde-haired barista with a wide smile and kind eyes waves to him when he walks closer to the counter.  “Hey, mate!  Haven’t seen ya ‘round here before!” he says in a thick Irish accent, grin never leaving his face.  “You new?”

Harry smiles easily, nodding.  “Yeah, I bought the place down the street?”  He jerks his thumb toward the door, and the man nods.  “’M opening a toy shop.”

“Well, consider this your formal welcome to town!  Niall Horan. This is my coffee shop, my pride and joy, the love of my life,” he says dramatically with a hand to his chest, laughter creeping into his tone.  

“Harry Styles,” he tells him, holding his hand out across the counter as Niall gives him a firm handshake.  “Nice to meet you, kind of neighbor.”

Niall lets out a loud cackle, throwing his head back, and Harry decides immediately that he likes him.  There’s something about his larger than life presence makes him feel comfortable already.  “What can I get for ya?”

“Oh, um.  A black tea for my sister.  She’s outside.  And, hm.” He pauses to scan the board. “I’ll have a peppermint mocha?”

Niall nods.  “You got it!”  He turns away to make the drinks, moving fluidly and with the ease of someone who’s done it a thousand times.

The bell on the door jingles, and Harry turns instinctively to see who’s joining them.  A man around his age, maybe slightly older, walks in, gloved hand wrapped tightly around a little girl’s mitten-clad one. He’s wearing a bright blue beanie that brings out the electric color of his eyes, and he smiles, looking down at the red-cheeked girl, no older than six, in a puffy coat with her sandy hair in pigtails poking out of a hot pink beanie.

“’Bout time you showed up, Tommo!” Niall calls from behind the counter, and Harry snapped out of his daze, coughing slightly before making sure to tear his gaze away from the handsome stranger.  He doesn’t want to stare, but he somehow can’t bring himself to stop.

“I had to go pick up Gracie from school, Horan,” he retorts, voice raspy and lilty even when there’s a sarcastic undertone.  “Why don’t you take your coat off, okay, love?” he says softly to the girl – Gracie, apparently – as he kneels down to be eye level with her.  “I can get you some things to color, and you can sit over at your special table!  How’s that sound?  I’ve gotta work for a little bit, and then we can go out for dinner.”

She responds only with a barely-there nod, but he doesn’t seem bothered, just helps her out of her coat and plants a gentle kiss right in the middle of her forehead.  He takes off his own coat to reveal a smattering of tattoos down one arm, and he gives Harry a close-lipped but friendly smile as he walks by.

“Hiya, Gracie!” Niall calls to her, putting Gemma’s tea on the counter in front of Harry as he waves to her.  She blinks at him, mouth barely curving into a smile as she walks toward the counter, standing next to Harry.  “Sorry I missed seein’ you off on your first day!  I’ll getcha a chocolate chip muffin in a sec, though, babes!  Just gotta finish making this drink!”

Harry looks down at her with a smile, and she quickly looks down at her feet.  “Hey,” he says softly, and her blue eyes meet his only for a second.  “’Ve got a pink hat, too, y’know.”  He pulls his own hot pink beanie that’s topped with a pom pom from his pocket, holding it out to show her.  “Guess we match, huh?”

There’s a trace of amusement that colors her face, and her blue-eyed wonder of a father steps in next to her holding a few sheets of paper and crayons.  His lashes fan out against his cheeks as he looks at her, cheekbones so sharp they could cut glass.  His soft voice is what takes Harry out of his thoughts, listening to him exclaim, “Look at that, Gracie!  You two are twins.  Sick, innit?” She nods, taking the crayons into her hands and starting to head away to the table.

He’s about to say something to the beautiful man, but before Harry can open his mouth, Niall is standing at the counter with his latte in hand. “It’s on the house since you’re new here,” he tells him with a grin.

“Oh, no,” Harry replies with a shake of his head, digging his hand into his pocket.  “Please, it’s not a big deal.  Let me – ”

Niall shakes his head before crossing his arms over his chest.  “I won’t have it!  All I ask is that ya come back!”  

“Of course,” Harry answers with a laugh, taking the drinks into his hands, pleasantly warm from the inside out.  “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of each other while I try to get my shop in order.”

“That’s just what I like to hear,” Niall says, pulling a chocolate chip muffin out of the display cabinet.  “Maybe Gracie will even stop by to get some toys from ya.”  He winks, holding out the muffin to the little girl who takes it with a slight smile.

“Maybe,” Harry agrees with a nod, smiling at the two of them.  “Thanks again, Niall.  Lovely meeting you.  And you, too, Gracie,” he tacks on, and she looks at him, still unsure as she breaks a piece off her muffin.

He looks behind him before he leaves, seeing Gracie’s father behind the counter where he’s tying an apron around his neck.  With a sigh, he leaves the store and hands Gemma her tea just as she’s hanging up the phone.  “That’s a DILF if I ever saw one,” is the first thing out of her mouth.

Harry nearly chokes on his tongue, latte halfway to his mouth while he sputters, “What the f – ”

She rolls her eyes and laughs lightly.  “I saw the way you looked at him, Haz.  I’m not blind.  And he’s proper fit.”  Gemma quirks a perfect brow, and Harry just shakes his head.

“Gems, he has a _daughter_ – it wasn’t.”  He stops himself because okay, yes, he would like to get to know Blue Eyes, but.  “He’s probably married.”

“You never know,” Gemma answers, strolling back into the shop with a wicked grin.

*

“Who was that?” Louis asks Niall as he settles in for his shift, securing the ties of his apron around his waist.  He spares a glance over to Gracie, making sure she’s still content in her usual corner, curled up with her art supplies.  “’Ve never seen him ‘round before.”

“He’s called Harry Styles,” Niall replies with a shrug.  “Said he bought the empty place down the road, and he’s openin’ a toy shop.”

“Hm.  Maybe I’ll stop by with Gracie.”  He tries to quickly mentally convince himself it’s because he wants to go get new toys for Gracie, but in reality, he just wants to see the beautiful long-haired, long-legged stranger again and get to actually carry on a conversation with him.   _And maybe fall into his sparkling green eyes and spend forever there_ , but he leaves that detail out.

Niall laughs loudly, and Louis turns to look at him.  “It’s cause you think he’s gorgeous.  Chasing the hot toy man.  Oh, Lewis, you’re too predictable.”

Louis feels his face burn with embarrassment, but he plays it cool, trying to pretend he’s not as transparent as he is.  “Fuck off,” he says lowly, making sure Gracie doesn’t hear him.  “I’m not allowed to admire a gorgeous man when I see one?”

“You can do more than admire him, Lou.  You can even wine and dine him if you want.”  Niall waggles his brows suggestively, and Louis smacks his chest.

“Gracie’s my number one priority right now,” he retorts, eyes flitting to her.  She looks so much like her mother, the same wide blue eyes and long lashes, and his mind cruelly flashes back to his earlier conversation with Liam, same lump clogging his throat.  “I don’t have time for any distractions.”

He feels a hand on his shoulder, and he looks over at Niall who’s wearing an understanding expression. “It’s okay to find something that makes you happy, too, y’know.”  

“And I’d be happiest if you got off me back and let me get something done around here, Horan!” he replies with biting sarcasm, but he knows Niall’s known him long enough to see right through it.

He watches whatever remark he had planned to make die on his tongue, and instead of a verbal response, Niall just walks by and pats his back gently, almost like a silent apology.

Louis sighs, busying himself with wiping down the counters, but deep down, he knows Niall’s right, knows he needs to do something for himself once in awhile.   But all of this responsibility is still so _new_ to him that he can’t help but feel like the timing is all wrong.  He doesn’t even know why either of them is assuming someone as beautiful as this guy is single.  

Maybe if he’s still coming around in a few months, Louis will take some action.  Maybe then he can wine and dine him.  Maybe then.

*

The next day at Harry’s shop includes a lot less excitement, a lot more unpacking, and _way_ more whining from Gemma.  “H, pleeeeaaassseeee can we stop for right now?  If my arm falls off, I’m suing you,” she says pointedly, flopping back onto the white fluffy carpet she’s tried to nap on three different times now.

Harry laughs, running a razor blade down the tape on a box and blowing a strand of hair that’s come loose from his bun out of his face.  “We’ve made so much progress, though!”  He looks around, and it looks so much closer to his vision now, and in only one more day, everything will properly be on display, and then they’ll only have to worry about finishing touches.  “Please just a little longer.  And then we can call it a day.”  He does his best pout, and Gemma rolls her eyes, but she pulls herself up and makes her way to another box.

“How long is a little longer?”  She looks at him pleadingly.

Harry looks around the shop with a shrug.  His faerie house is already set up right in the middle of the store, the centerpiece for everything.  Even with a few other things unpacked, the eye still goes right to the glittery house just like Harry wants it.  He can’t help from looking over at it a few times, so glad he finally has a place to put it on display, stunning in all its handmade glory.

“An hour?  Two?”  

Gemma groans, and he pulls his lip between his teeth.  “Please, Gems.”

“You’re lucky I love you, little bro.”

He walks over to her to wrap his arms around her obnoxiously, giving her the biggest hug he can manage.  She laughs wildly, trying to extricate herself from his grasp.  She does it after a few wiggles, and she just shakes her head at him, used to his antics after dealing with him for so many years.

Harry makes his way back over to the stack of books he’s currently unloading, humming a random tune as he does.

“I think we should go back to that coffee shop so you can check out that hot dad,” Gemma says easily after a few moments of silence.   When Harry looks up, she’s leaning against a large box all too casually, and he inexplicably starts coughing, not even able to blame it on dust since the shop is still pristine.

“Excuse me?” he retorts, looking over at her, but she’s focusing her attention on slicing the tape across the top now, nodding nonchalantly.  “I was _not_ checking him out.”

“You were,” Gemma answers easily, and there’s laughter in her voice as she finishes opening the box, pulling out a few dolls, smiling at them nostalgically.  “He was fit, H, you can admit it.”

Harry crosses his arms defensively, and he doesn’t even know why he’s trying to fight this considering he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about his gorgeous blue eyes since yesterday. He opens his mouth to reply with something snarky, but he loses all his fire when he thinks about potentially seeing him again today.  He certainly wouldn’t object.  Still, he pulls out the same weak argument he used yesterday: “Well, yeah, he’s gorgeous, but like I told you already, Gems, he’s got a daughter.”

“Bullshit.”  She rolls her eyes and laughs loudly.  “Doesn’t mean you can’t look _and_ did you know parents still have sex drives?  It’s been proven and everything.  Shocking, I know.”

Harry shakes his head and busies himself with unpacking some stuffed animals, but now that Gemma’s mentioned it, his mind won’t stop replaying yesterday’s quick interaction with Blue Eyes and his sweet, beautiful daughter.  He manages to last ten more minutes unpacking in relative quiet before he says, “Fine, you win, let’s go back to the coffee shop.”

Gemma does an exaggerated fist pump paired with a dramatic sigh of relief.  “I’m saved!” she yells, and Harry rolls his eyes, heading to the coat rack in the corner.

He takes her coat off it and throws it at her, landing perfectly over her head.  She scoffs as she tugs it off her face, and he laughs loudly.  “You deserved that,” he says simply.

They get bundled up to make the short walk.  It’s not quite as cold as it was yesterday, but it’s still blustery and frigid. Harry tucks his hands in his pockets, trying to bury his nose in the front of his coat.  “I could order twelve hot chocolates and still not be warm, bloody hell,” Gemma exclaims, running a few steps in front of Harry to duck into the shop.

He smiles to himself and grabs the door behind her, the heat feeling like a hug around him.  The shop is slightly busier than yesterday, a hustle and bustle around them that makes the place come alive.  Niall almost bumps into him as he walks by, but he quickly smiles when he sees Harry, taking a second to study him.  He’s got a sprinkled donut on a plate in one hand and a steaming hot drink with a mountain of whipped cream on it in the other. “Hiya!  Harry, wasn’t it?” he says with a grin, and he nods.

“Yeah, ‘s nice to see you again, Niall.  This is my sister, Gemma.”

Gemma smiles at him, waving. “I’d shake your hand, but it looks like you’ve got quite the load there.”

He cackles loudly, throwing his head back, and Harry wonders if that’s his natural reaction to everything. “Lovely to meet ya, and welcome to town! Hang on a quick sec, I gotta go deliver this donut to Princess Gracie over here!”  He points to a table near the counter, and there’s the little girl from yesterday, curled up with a book.  “Someone else’ll take care of ya today!”

“Thank you,” Harry calls after him, waving with a smile.

“That’s a good sign,” Gemma whispers to him as they walk in sync to join the line.  It’s longer today, the last person in line nearly pressing up against the table Gracie’s sitting at.  “If she’s here, hot dad is, too.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but his stomach does a flip at the fact that Blue Eyes really is here today. The line moves up slightly right when they join in, and Harry and Gemma are perched right next to Gracie’s table.  He doesn’t want to scare her, doesn’t know the exact protocol for this, but right as he looks over at her, she meet his eyes, chewing a bite of donut.  “Hi, petal,” he says softly, warily, and she blinks back at him.  “I see neither of us has our matching beanie on today!”  She cracks the slightest bit of a grin, shaking her head. “Well, I don’t wanna keep you from your book.  Or your donut.  Enjoy them, okay?”  He wiggles his fingers at her and turns back to face the counter.

He can feel Gemma’s smile before he sees it as she murmurs, “You charmer.  Hot dad would be a proper idiot not to fall in love with you.”

“Gems, please,” he whines, and she just laughs as the line moves up again.

Harry looks at the menu board to see what he’s going to order, but he’s only half paying attention because he’s trying to scope out Blue Eyes from behind the counter. There’s a girl with purple hair and a man with a short quiff, but there’s no sign of who Harry wants to see most. Maybe he’s on his lunch break? Maybe he’s running an errand?  A plethora of scenarios play in his mind and all of them end with him not seeing Blue Eyes, and he tries not to pout outwardly.

He would ask where he is, but he feels so strange asking for a man he doesn’t even _know_.  He couldn’t even tell you his name, though he vaguely remembers Niall calling him ‘Tommo’ yesterday.  They’re definitely not on a nickname basis yet, and the last thing he wants is to come across as hopelessly _weird_.

The line moves again, and the short-quiffed guy comes over to take their order with a wide smile on his face. Harry spares a glance down at his name tag.  Olly.  Before he can say anything other than hello, Blue Eyes himself comes out of the back room and slaps the other man’s chest. “’Ve got this one, Olly, you can sit this one out.”

Olly just rolls his eyes with a fond shake of his head.  He jerks his thumb toward the beautiful man.  “This one here will take good care of you.”

Harry laughs, and his eyes immediately go to Blue Eyes’ chest, the spot where all the other employees are wearing name tags.  Of course _, of course_ he isn’t wearing one, and it takes everything in his power not to scream right there, but then Blue Eyes is talking to him and he’s sure he looks like a startled deer.  Gemma always says he looks like Bambi when he’s surprised, anyway, and he can see her grinning at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Oi, think I’ve seen you before,” he says with a wolfish grin, and there’s a childlike youth to him despite the layers of scruff dusting his face.  “Weren’t you in here yesterday?”

Harry’s in shock that Blue Eyes even remembers him, considering they didn’t even really speak yesterday at all, but he nods dazedly.  Gemma shoves him slightly, and he lets out an embarrassing squawk as he stumbles slightly on his feet.  The man seems to be amused, though, laughter escaping his lips.  “Yeah, I spoke to your, um, daughter?”

“Ah, yes, yes,” he nods, and his eyes go right over Harry’s shoulder for a moment, right where she’s sitting.  “Anyone who’s good to her is alright with me.  What can I get you?”

Gemma must sense that Harry’s having a hard time processing the fact that he made some sort of impact on Blue Eyes, so she cuts in with, “I’ll have a black Yorkshire, please.”

He nods, then shifts his gaze to Harry.  He gives him an endearing, close-lipped smile with his brows raised in question.  “And you, Curly?”

Harry’s taken aback by the nickname, surprised and endeared, and he can feel himself blushing all the way down to his toes.  He forgets what he planned to order, and all he can see is ocean, ocean blue, and then Gemma’s stepping right on his toes, snapping him out of it.  “Oh, um, just a peppermint mocha, please,” he says, and once Blue Eyes has turned around, he shoots Gemma a dark glare.  “Was that really necessary?”

“If you hadn’t forgotten how to talk, it wouldn’t have been.”  Her grin is far too smug, but he can’t deny that he’s feeling all out of sorts having to interact with someone as otherworldly as Blue Eyes.  “He already has a nickname for you, though, Hazza.” She winks at him, and Harry feels a loop de loop in his belly.

He watches Blue Eyes scurry around the kitchen, weaving past Olly and the purple-haired girl easily. He’s quick and light on his feet, like he’s floating rather than making coffee.  “Can you tone down your staring?  You’re doing that creepy frog thing,” Gemma whispers to him, and Harry chuckles lightly.

He tears his eyes away for a moment to check out the baked goods in the display case, but he’s drawn to Blue Eyes again when he hears his loud laughter ringing out.  He’s bright, infectious, and beautiful, and god, Harry just wants to know his fucking _name_.

Their hands brush when Blue Eyes hands him his coffee, a spark of electricity from the delicate touch of their fingertips.  Harry smiles shyly, and when he looks up, Blue Eyes is mirroring his expression.  “Nice nails,” he chirps happily, eyes flicking to Harry’s bright red fingers.  “Anything else for you two?”

“Oh, um, thank you.  A cupcake, too, please,” Harry tells him, pointing to the last one left, vanilla with chocolate frosting.

“Coming right up,” Blue Eyes tells him, and his heart is thudding so hard against his ribs he feels like one might break.

“I used to be a baker,” he says apropos of nothing because his mouth is saying things that his brain hasn’t approved, and he hears Gemma groan beside him, shoving his shoulder.

“He only uses that line on the pretty boys,” she tells Blue Eyes, and Harry nearly chokes.  He does _not_ need his sister’s help flirting, but he watches anxiously for the man’s reaction.

Blue Eyes raises his eyebrows in interest, hand hovering over the cupcakes like the gears in his head are turning.  “So, you use it a lot, then?”

“Rare occurrence,” he saves with a flash of a grin, feeling pretty good about himself, “but as a cupcake expert, I can say that one looks pretty delicious.”

Blue Eyes smiles, a pleased look coming over his face.  “Well, I didn’t bake it, but I’ll be sure to pass your comment along.” Harry wants to smack himself in the forehead for being an idiot, but he manages to keep his cool and just giggles. Gemma’s holding back cackles next to him, and Blue Eyes cuts in with, “But I’m hopeless in the kitchen meself. Maybe you can give me some tips sometime.”

Harry’s eyes widen, and he nods a bit too eagerly.  “Yeah, course I can.”

“Don’t think I won’t take you up on that someday,” he says, pointing his finger with a slight laugh, and Harry takes a sip of his drink to try to hide his goofy grin.  “You need anything else, then?”

Harry turns to Gemma to affirm they’re all set, and she shakes her head with a smile.  He notices a few other customers standing behind him now as he tells Blue Eyes, “Think we’re all good.  Thank you.”

“Nice seeing you, Curly,” Blue Eyes says with a wink and a wave, and Harry waves back.  He watches as he walks off, moving onto the next customer with eyes bright.  

He’s so lost in his own world he doesn’t even realize Gemma is already paying and taking the cupcake bag in her own hand.  She tugs on the sleeve of Harry’s coat, and he blinks at her, dazed, and she just laughs at him, too amused.  “Hm?” he hums, blinking again.  

“I paid already, Bambi, let’s go and stop staring,” she laughs, and they head toward the door, Harry turning back to get one last look at Blue Eyes.  He turns back, and they walk out the door, a gust of wind hitting them in the face.  “Seems like he’s already interested in you, baby bro.”

“And I still don’t know his name,” Harry grumbles, holding his drink in both hands to try to keep himself warm.

“Just means you have to go back again to see him again,” Gemma tells him with a smile, poking his traitor of a dimple that’s decided to pop out.

It’s not the worst idea he’s ever heard, but he won’t tell Gemma that.

*

“Bedtime checklist!” Louis grins, pulling up Gracie’s comforter around her neck and planting a soft kiss on her forehead.  “Alright! Jammies on?”  He tugs lightly at her sleeve, making her giggle, as he loudly declares, “How silly of me to even ask!  Check!  Teeth? You brushed ‘em, didn’t you? Lemme see those pearly whites!” She rolls her eyes a little, and god, that’s so _Charlotte_ of her that his heart hurts for a moment.  She smiles, though, and Louis gives her a thumb’s up.  “Check!  Nightlight?” He turns to the lamp on her dresser and nods affirmatively.  “On! Now all that’s left is a story, hm?”

She nods, still remaining silent.  Gracie pulls her toy – a stuffed Tinkerbell doll – closer to her and settles in with her eyes on Louis.  “What can I tell you about tonight...”  He taps his chin thoughtfully, watching her blue eyes follow him intently.  “Maybe...spiders?”  She shakes her head furiously, and Louis bites back a giggle, tapping his chin again. “What about...the crocodiles we saw at the zoo?”  She shakes her head again.  “A prince?” Gracie nods this time, looking much more pleased.  “That I can do.  Hm.”

He’s not the most creative with his bedtime stories, but he’s getting better, always having had a wild imagination as a child.  Back then, most of his stories included superheroes and flying dragons and blood and guts and swords.  The ones he tells these days have unicorns and cotton candy clouds, but he’s honing his craft nightly, and that’s all he can do.

“There once was a _very handsome_ prince who lived in a beautiful kingdom, and his name was Prince Louis.”  Gracie giggles a little bit, burying her face in her hand.  “Hey, I could be a prince, little miss – are you saying I couldn’t?”  He reaches out to tickle her, and she laughs a bit more, Louis grinning involuntarily in response.  He must be doing something right.  

“Well, anyway.  This prince...”  His thoughts flash to Harry, his gorgeous green eyes, his long chocolate curls, dimples so perfectly carved, mouth so soft and pink.  “Met another beautiful prince...at.  The kingdom’s beverage shop.  Ye Olde Beverage Shop.”  She giggles again, the definition of sugar and spice and everything nice. “And they decided that they both found each other very, very pretty, and decided that they liked each other a lot.”

He’s projecting now, resorting to making up stories about he and Harry as princes rather than acting on his feelings, and fuck, isn’t that pathetic?  But he goes on – for Gracie, he tells himself, even though he’s not sure when all he’s doing is describing his fantasies.  “And they went out on a date and strolled around the castle garden, and it was all very lovely, but still not as lovely as the beautiful prince. And they kissed at sunset, right when the sky was all purple and pink, just like the colors of your room!”  He looks around for effect, and Gracie does, too, before looking back at him again.  “And they decided to get married and have babies of their own.”

And he’s imagining having _babies_ with a man he’s met twice, a man he doesn’t even know if he’s single, and he’s telling this all to his daughter.

He’s fucked.

“So, they did.  And they had a gorgeous little princess who looked a lot like you, I reckon.”  He pokes Gracie’s nose, and she scrunches up her face, cuddling Tinkerbell closer to her. “And they lived happily ever after. The end.”

Gracie smiles once he finishes, but he tacks on apologetically, “That wasn’t my best work today, and ‘m sorry, little love.”  His mind is still clouded with thoughts of Harry, and he knows Gracie’s caught on, saw her curiously watching the two of them in the shop earlier.  Her eyes shine slightly like there’s something she wants to say, and he waits for her words to come, momentarily forgetting she hasn’t spoken in quite awhile.  He shakes his head at himself, swallowing the sudden sadness and brushing his hand over her fine hair.  “You all good for bed?”

She nods, and he leans down to kiss her again, smiling when she throws her arms around his neck. “Love you, ladybug,” Louis whispers, and she kisses his scruffy cheek.  He pulls away, blowing her a kiss.  “Sweet dreams, and see you in the morning!”

He flicks the light off, watching her shift around in bed to get comfortable.  She tucks her Tinkerbell under her chin, closing her eyes and letting her long lashes fall over her cheeks.  Gracie’s so beautiful painted in the pink hues of her room, nightlight dancing on the wall, and his heart hurts.  He wants to give her everything.

With a sigh, Louis pads out of her room, leaving the door ajar, only to be faced with Liam leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and looking way too smug.

“Oi!” Louis whisper yells, mindful of Gracie trying to go to bed.  “Gonna give me a bloody heart attack, you wanker.”  He shoves Liam’s chest, but it has no effect when he just starts laughing, throwing his arm around Louis as they head toward the living room.

“So...handsome prince with green eyes?” Liam asks him, and Louis groans, wriggling out of Liam’s grasp and plopping down into the closest armchair.  He doesn’t grant him an answer, but that doesn’t stop him.  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Harry from the coffee shop, hm?”  He waggles his thick brows with an impish grin.

Louis’ head snaps to look at him, eyes narrowing immediately.  “How the fuck did y – ”

“Niall texted me.”  

Liam laughs loudly when Louis dramatically stands up with his middle finger in the air, storming off toward his bedroom.  He’s not sure why he’s so defensive, but he hasn’t even said more than a few _sentences_ to Harry and he wishes his friends would just let him live his fucking life.  He’s got enough on his plate without having his idiot best mates teasing him relentlessly about a guy who probably won’t even go out with him.  “Goodnight, Lou.”

“You’re both bastards, and I hate you.”

When Louis falls asleep that night, he dreams of Harry.

*

Harry decides to spend some time away from the shop and go for a jog.  Gemma offered to stay and finish the last of the unpacking, and he’s never been more grateful.  Jogging always helps him to clear his head, so he puts on his baggiest hoodie, throws his hair into a bun with a pink scrunchie, and turns on his pump up playlist. He’s already feeling better, lighter, less stressed only a few minutes in. The shop opens in two days, and he’s been agonizing over every last decision.

Harry’s so lost in thought he doesn’t even notice someone approaching him, and he finds himself colliding with somebody. “Oh,” he breathes out, stumbling back a few steps as he quickly yanks out his earbuds.  “I’m so sor – oh.”  He smiles when he makes eye contact with blue-eyed wonder himself.  He’s grinning.  “Hi.”

“Hello,” he answers, sounding genuinely happy to see him. “Pretty intense jog, huh?”  Harry shrugs, feeling his face go red as he fumbles with the cord to his headphones.  “Don’t care much for running, meself.  I get bored too quickly.  Always been more of a footie lad.”

“’M useless on the field,” Harry laughs.  “Always tripping over my own feet.”

He clicks his tongue, brushing it over his front teeth.  “Ah, those long Bambi legs aren’t just for seducing, then?”

Harry chokes a little, trying to get out a laugh but instead making an hysterical sounding noise. Blue Eyes’ eyebrows are raised, face impossibly soft.  “They’re mostly functional, too,” he answers, and he can almost feel the tips of his ears turning red.

Blue Eyes smiles wider at him, motioning toward the headphones he’s holding in his hands. “What’s on your playlist, hm?  A bit of ‘Eye of the Tiger’ to make sure you’re Olympic ready?”

Harry chuckles, absently tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.  “Um, no, bit of Spice Girls, though.  Wannabe, always a classic.”  He looks at his feet as he says it, slightly embarrassed, but the man’s laugh rings out loud, bright, and reassuring, and Harry feels lighter.

“Me and my mates – Niall, from the coffee shop? and my other mate, Liam – do karaoke sometimes, and that’s always a favorite.  Not that I’ve been out much with...”  He makes a vague hand gesture, and Harry assumes he means his daughter, nodding along. “But, yeah, reckon you could come along with us next time we go out and show us your moves.”

Harry smiles.  “I’d like that.  ‘Ve got a lot on my plate with opening my shop, but I’d love to get a cuppa or drinks or summat when you’ve got the time.”

“Oh, that’s right!” he exclaims, snapping his fingers as his eyes glitter just a little more blue. “Niall said you’re opening a toy store?” Harry nods, smile starting to take him over.  “I’ll have to drop by with Gracie, yeah?”

“The grand opening is next week,” Harry tells him, and Blue Eyes pulls his phone out, eyes darting to his screen.  “And I’d love to see you both there.  There are, um, some flyers outside my shop, so you could grab one if you pass by.”

He grins, nodding. “Reckon we could stop in.  ‘M sure Gracie would love that.  Speaking of her, though, I’ve gotta run.”  He shakes his phone, and Harry catches a glimpse of his lock screen – a photo of his arms around Gracie, both of them wearing wide smiles.  “Almost time to pick her up, and I don’t want to interrupt your jog.”

“Oh, of course,” Harry replies, and he misses him a little already, even though it feels absurd. “It was so good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Curly.”

“I never did get your name,” Harry calls as Blue Eyes starts to walk off, half expecting him just to keep walking.

He turns back around, eyes crinkling as he smiles.  “Louis Tomlinson.”

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Louis,” he says, and the name tastes so sweet on his tongue.  He gets a smile in response that’s accompanied with a slight wave, and his stomach flips as his heart jumps into his throat, putting his earbuds back in.

The rest of his jog feels a lot like cloud nine.

*

Louis is baking cupcakes.

It’s his day off, and he’s baking cupcakes, and he doesn’t know how to make cupcakes, really.

He’s followed the instructions on the box mix which surprisingly only included three ingredients and wasn’t hard at all.  It’s getting the lumps out of the batter that he’s having trouble with because he quickly realized he needed a hand mixer for this, not just a wooden spoon, and he has no idea how the fuck he’s going to make this as smooth as it needs to be. His arm feels like it’s going to fall off as he stirs a little harder, angrily whirling the spoon around as some of the vanilla batter slips over the side of the bowl.

“Who doesn’t have a fucking mixer?” Louis wonders aloud, but really he’s just mad at himself for not bothering to check before starting.  “Even I had one in me old flat.  Bloody Liam.”

His mind flashes to Harry, how he made the offhanded comment the other day about having worked in a bakery.  He thinks about his delicate, beautifully painted, ringed fingers holding the spoon, dancing it around the bowl with ease.  He realizes he’s fantasizing about a virtual stranger _baking_ with him, and he’s in way too fucking deep.  Louis knows that Harry really would help him, though, if he asked him to, but he shakes the thought off, focusing his attention to fixing this mess of a batter.

About five minutes later, he yells “fuck it” in favor of keeping his right arm, taking the spoon out and clanging the muffin tin down on the counter.  He lines each slot with a hot pink wrapper and messily spoons the batter in.  It’s dripping across the pan, across the counter, down the sides of the bowl, but he doesn’t care – this was a terrible idea, and he just wants them _done_.  

But they also have to be _perfect_ because these are for Gracie and – they’re first graders, he reasons with himself, they don’t need Mary Berry perfect cupcakes.  He grabs a paper towel and wipes some of the batter off the tin, figuring that’s good enough.

Sighing, Louis shoves the pan in the oven just as Liam walks into the kitchen, brows furrowed.  “What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, slipping his coat off.  He had a half day at work today and Louis was sincerely hoping his baking misadventure would be over by the time Liam got back in.

“Baking cupcakes,” he says simply, closing the door to the oven and quickly setting the timer.  He leans against the counter, jerking his thumb toward the oven, giving off a vibe of false confidence.  “’S pretty good, innit?”

Liam eyes him curiously, walking over to the counter where the bowl of lumpy batter still sits. “Uh,” he says, pointing to it. “Isn’t this, like, supposed to be smooth?  When I was with Sophia, she used to bake cupcakes all the time and – ”

“You don’t have a bloody hand mixer,” Louis jumps in, defensive, and he’s not sure why he’s upset over a hand mixer, but that’s just how his day is going.  “And you expect me to make half decent cupcakes without a fucking mixer?  Of course the batter’s gonna be lumpy!  I’m not trying to churn butter, Liam, and that’s what hand stirring cupcakes feels like. So, make yourself useful and get the lumps out for me then if it’s so easy, Mr. Muscles.”

Liam fish mouths in response but dutifully picks up the spoon, twirling it through the batter rather than making any sort of effort to stir it.  Louis half wants to tell him he’s not going to accomplish anything of it, but knows better of it since he can practically see the cogs turning in Liam’s head, can hear the words he’s not saying.

They stand in silence for a few minutes, Liam’s eyes fixed on the bowl, before he puts down the spoon and makes eye contact with Louis.  “So...wanna tell me what this is about?”

Louis laughs humorlessly, knowing Liam’s known him long enough to see right through him.  He spares a glance at the cupcakes in the oven, and they look like they’re mostly rising.  “I was making these for Gracie to take to school.”

There’s a blank look that crosses Liam’s face before he says, “For...why?”

“’Ve already started her in a new school, and you know there’s always kids that tease.  Kids are mean, Liam.  I’ve seen the way they act with me sisters, when they’ve come home crying about things kids have said, these little menaces whose parents refuse to enforce any sort of discipline at home, so they just take it out on other kids. And Gracie’s already...”  He swallows hard.  “There’s always that token weird kid, y’know?  The one that’s always the target, and with her not speaking and not really being able to make friends, she’s kind of the poster child weird kid, isn’t she?  And that’s wrong, and that’s so fucking unfair, but reality is harsh, and kids are awful, and...”  He trails off.

“So, you were going to bribe the kids into liking Gracie with cupcakes?” Liam supplies slowly.

“Well, when you put it like that you make me sound like some sort of con artist.”  Louis waves his hand flippantly.  “It’s just a push in the right direction, innit?  A campaign.  ‘Be nice to Gracie and you get cupcakes.’”

Liam smiles, reaching out to pat Louis’ shoulder.  “Mate, she doesn’t need your help, yeah?”

“No, I know, it’s only primary, but these are the formative years!  Some kid could be a complete arse to her, and she’ll have flashbacks to it when she’s 20!  I can’t be responsible for that kind of mental scarring!”  

“I understand you’re worried, and you’ve got every right to be, but she’s brilliant.”  He sounds so sure, more sure than Louis has been about anything over the past few months.  “She’s more than capable of handling this on her own.  Don’t make her even weirder by showing up with cupcakes cause then they’ll make fun of her for you being there.  It’s, like, a no win situation, but you showing up is gonna make it worse.  Talk to her teacher if you’re worried, but don’t do this to her.”

He sighs, and he gets it, he does, but he doesn’t want to admit it.  “I hate when you’re right, Payno,” is what he says instead, and Liam just laughs, the sound melding in with the timer going off.  He sighs loudly.  “Charlotte would just know what to do.”

The air feels heavier when he admits that, and Liam gives him the same sympathetic smile he’s gotten so used to.  “And that’s okay that you don’t.  She didn’t choose you as her guardian because she thought you’d be perfect, Lou.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding and trying to assure himself Liam is right.  “Okay.”

“Listen, why don’t you get those cupcakes out of the oven before they burn, I’ll go pick up Gracie, and you can be a hero with a treat for her when she gets back?  Sound alright?”

Louis nods, grabbing a pot holder and opening the oven.  The cupcakes have managed to rise, and they’re a nice golden color, so he figures he couldn’t have messed them up too badly.  He puts the tin on the counter and watches as Liam puts his coat back on. “Hey, Liam?”  He looks up, brows raised.  “Thanks, mate.”

His face scrunches up in happiness with the praise.  “It’s nothing, Lou.”

While Liam’s gone, Louis busies himself with making the next batch of cupcakes with the leftover batter. He bought four different kinds of frosting because he’s never been the most decisive, three colors of sprinkles, and some sugar decorations.  He’s about to start frosting the first batch when he smiles to himself, thinking about how Gracie would probably like to help.

As if on cue, he hears the door open and Liam say, “Lou made cupcakes, kiddo!”

He grumbles to himself, having wanted it to be a surprise, but his momentary foul mood doesn’t last long when Gracie comes running into the kitchen, wide smile on her face and open arms, crashing into him.  “Hello, my love,” he greets her with a grin, bending down to kiss her head.  “Did you have a good day?”

She nods, looking over to the counter, and he can’t blame her for being more interested in the cupcakes than him.

“I heard Uncle Liam told you about the cupcakes!  That was supposed to be a surprise, but do you wanna frost some?  I reckon that’s the best part, so I left it for you.”  He winks, and she nods again, excited. “Sounds perfect.  Let’s get you a chair to stand on so you can reach then, yeah?”

He drags one over from the dining room table, picking her up and helping her get settled, laying out the frosting and different decorations.  “All yours, ladybug.”  He hands her a spatula.  “Take your pick.”

Louis catches Liam watching them from the doorway, warm smile on his face, and as he watches Gracie frost her cupcake in baby pink strawberry icing, tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration, he tucks her hair behind her ear gently, knowing that like her mother, she can handle whatever comes her way.

*

The grand opening of Harry’s shop comes much quicker than he expects it to.  And he doesn’t know how it crept up on him, but he feels like the past couple weeks have been a blur of inventory, unpacking, and _Louis_ , so he can’t exactly complain.

Everything is unpacked and displayed exactly as he wants it, but he just keeps feeling like there’s more he can do, stupidly rearranging things on their shelves or fluffing the pillows in the reading corner.  It looks perfectly cozy – the baby pink walls and fluffy carpet are inviting, the faerie house is displayed proudly in the center, the first place your eyes go.  His shop’s got all the toys he would’ve wanted to play with when he was younger – there’s plenty of dolls and different kinds of board games, lots of books and things to use outside when the weather gets nicer.  He’s so proud, but so nervous.

“It’s fine, Haz,” Gemma says with a roll of her eyes, leaning her arm across his shoulder.  “No one’s gonna notice if the pillows aren’t fluffed.”

He shoots her a dark glare as he puts his hair up into a messy bun.  “But _I’ll_ know.”

She rolls her eyes. “Are you going to open the door now? Let in the masses?  Welcome everyone to toyland, every girl and boy land?”

Harry takes in a deep breath.  Flipping the “closed” sign to “open” seems like such a big step.  He’s nervous but doesn’t want to be.  This is big, though, and this shop has become his baby and he just wants to _succeed_.  He bites his lip, and he turns to look at Gemma, watching as a sarcastic comment dies on her tongue.

“What’s wrong, H?” Her tone is so sweet and sincere that some of his worries automatically fall away.

“What if no one likes it? What if no one comes?  God, this was fucking stupid, right?  Like, why did I decide to move here and open a toy store? Why didn’t I just go to law school? Why did no one tell me this was a terrible idea?  Why – ” Gemma puts her arm around his shoulders, making a soft shushing noise that causes him to stop and look at her, eyes wide.

“You’re never gonna know if anyone’s gonna come if you don’t unlock the door,” she says carefully, laughing gently, and that brings a smile to Harry’s face.  “And no, I don’t think it’s stupid at all. You didn’t go to law school because you would’ve been fucking miserable.  You’ve started your own business, and that alone is incredible, y’know, building from the ground up!  You’re putting yourself out there, and hopefully it pays off, yeah? And if it doesn’t, we’ll figure it out. We always do, don’t we?”

He smiles, eyes watering with tears unshed as he pulls her into a tight hug.  It reminds him of when they were kids, long before he was taller than her, back when she’d fight his battles for him on the playground, before he learned to stand up for himself.  It still feels the same, and maybe it’s the room of toys surrounding them, but it feels familiar and is enough to settle him down.  “Thanks, Gems.  Couldn’t have have done this without you.”

“I know.”

“And you’re terribly modest, too.”

She rolls her eyes, shoving him toward the door.  “Now can you officially open the shop?  I’m getting tired of seeing just your face every day.  I want some spice!  And hopefully hot dad will show up.”

“Gemma!”  He turns to face her and she shrugs, one eyebrow quirked, and that feels a lot like primary, too – always teasing him about the boys he had crushes on.  “Hot dad has a name.  He’s called Louis.”

“Call him whatever you want, but he’s still a hot dad,” Gemma answers with a loud laugh, clearly pleased with herself.

Harry ignores her as he takes in a breath and opens the door to the shop, propping it open with a stopper then heading back inside.  It’s chilly out, and there’s cool air blowing inside, but he wants to make it look inviting, show them that everyone is welcome.  “And now we wait,” he says, wringing his hands together.

“You didn’t expect a rush, did you?  It’s a small town,” Gemma tells him quietly, and he turns to look at her, shaking his head. She pats his arm gently before making her way to the counter, standing behind the register like she’s ready to go.

Even though he doesn’t expect a stampede, it doesn’t stop his stomach from being upset, nervous this was all for naught.  He chews on his thumbnail as thinks back to Louis and Gracie, remembering that Louis had mentioned he’d stop in if they had time.  He really, really hopes he didn’t forget.

He only has a moment more to ponder it when a little red-headed girl with freckles dusting her cheeks come running into the store.  “Hiya, love,” Harry greets her, kneeling down to be eye-level with her, and she waves to him excitedly.  “Do you have a mummy or daddy that’s looking for you?”

“Mummy’s right here,” comes a woman’s voice, breathless, and he looks up to see her standing in the doorway blowing wild hair out of her face.  She’s got the same freckles, making her look eternally young.  “I’m so sorry, bit of a wild thing, this one.”

He laughs loudly as he looks down at the little girl again, saying, “It’s not nice to run away from your mum!”

“But I was so ‘cited to come here!  There’s very many toys!  Are they your toys?”  Her eyes are glittering as she looks around, and this is why Harry wanted to do this. He looks at Gemma over his shoulder, and she’s grinning.

“They are my toys!  I’m willing to share them with you, though. But only if your mum says it’s okay.” Harry shoots his gaze to her mother, and she gives him a tight lipped smile, but nods.

“You can have _one_ toy, Amelia,” she says, and the little girl’s eyes light up, jumping up and down.

“Thank you, Mumma!” she cheers, and she tugs at Harry’s hand.  “Show me where the bestest toys are, Mister!”

Harry laughs again, nerves falling away and feeling so much better.  “Well, Miss Amelia, what are your favorite things to do?  Do you like faeries?”  She scrunches up her nose and shakes her head.  “What about superheroes?”

“I _love_ superheroes!” she yells, bouncing up and down slightly. “They’re my favoritest!”

“Perfect!” Harry nods, standing to his full height to guide her to the corner of his shop full of different action figures, comic books, and costumes.  “I’m sure you can find something you like here, yeah?  ‘Ve got loads of stuff!”

Amelia carefully looks at what he’s got to offer, stopping to ask questions about things.  Harry answers all of them with a smile, falling in love with her sweet personality and curious nature.  Her mum beams from behind him, and when she finally chooses a toy – a Batman mask – her mum says softly to Harry, “Thank you so much for your patience with her.  You’ve just opened, haven’t you?  I don’t recall seeing this place here before.”

“Oh, yes,” Harry replies, grinning as he watches Gemma help Amelia put the mask on and show her proper superhero poses, “Today’s the first day.  And you’re the first customer, actually.”  He blushes as he says it.

“Well, we’re honored,” she tells him, and he can feel the blush creep all the way to the tips of his ears.  “I’m sure we’ll be back at some point since we pass this was on Amelia’s way home from school.”

He smiles at her, holding out his hand.  “It’ll be a pleasure to see you both again.  ‘M Harry.”

“Ellie.  It was lovely to meet you, Harry, but we’ve got to get going. You’ve certainly made my little one’s day,” she tells him, looking over at her daughter with fond eyes. “Amelia!”  

The girl comes running over and attaches herself to her mum’s legs.  “I’m Batman, Mumma!”

“I see that!”  She ruffles her hair.  “We’ve gotta get home, though, love, so say goodbye to Harry, okay? We can come visit him on another day.”

She hugs him as a goodbye, throwing her arms around him when he kneels down so he’s at her height, and Harry feels lighter than air, waving to them as they leave his shop with Amelia babbling nonstop.

“I think that was confirmation you’re doing the right thing, little bro,” Gemma says, arms crossed as she leans against the counter.  She’s wearing a proud smile, and Harry’s eyes are welling up again.

“Yeah.”  He looks toward the door, watching as a dad and a little boy walk in.  “Think I am.”

The rest of the afternoon has a steady stream of customers, people filtering in and out to look around the shop. There are kids who leave beaming as they play with their new doll or flip through their new book, thanking Harry profusely for having such cool stuff.  Some mums and dads come alone, promising to stop in with their children or to look for Christmas presents when they have more time.  Aunts and uncles and grandmas and grandpas have looks around, saying they’ll come back to spoil the kids in their lives and falling in love with Harry’s charm all the while.  

As much as he’s loved meeting everyone and talking to them, he hasn’t found anyone to tell the story of the faerie house to.  He’s seen kids look at it as they walk by, some even stop for a second to peer in the windows, but none of them linger long enough to show true interest, and Harry knows he has to wait for the perfect, most special kid to tell about the faerie.  He knows he’ll get that moment eventually, and it’ll be worth the wait.

It’s been a successful opening, but every time someone walks in, even if Harry’s talking to another customer, he can’t help but turn his head toward the door, hoping to see a familiar face.  He’s surprised he doesn’t have whiplash by now.

“He’ll come,” Gemma whispers while he’s ringing up a single dad who’s planning to surprise his three kids with presents this weekend.  “I’m sure of it.”

He’s about to reply to her, but she quickly heads away with a wink, going to straighten up some dolls.

An hour later, while he’s talking to a sweet grandmum, Louis arrives.  It’s like all the air rushes out of the room, like time stops, and he’s breathless as he watches him squeeze Gracie’s hand and point to the stuffed animals sitting in a comfy-looking pile on the floor.  “Um, excuse me,” Harry says to the woman, touching her wrist lightly, “’ve got to go welcome my newest customer, but it was such a pleasure to meet you today!”

He scurries away, knowing he’s being kind of rude, but god, Louis is here, he’s really, actually here.

“Um, hello,” Harry says, walking up behind Louis where he and Gracie are looking at some rainbow teddy bears from the pile.  He feels so unsure all of the sudden, but continues,“’M so glad you could stop by.”

Louis turns on his heels, grin growing when he sees Harry, and he underestimated just how good it would be to see Louis.  He feels like he could float away with the breeze.  “Ah, told you we’d come, Curly,” Louis tells him, standing up and taking Gracie’s hand.  “Love, do you remember Harry from the coffee shop?”

“Hello again, Gracie,” he greets her with a grin, and there’s a trace of a smile that colors her face.  He’s sure his heart grows a few sizes.  “How do you like my store?  Do you think I’ve done a good job?”

She looks around, and he catches her gaze going toward the faerie house, something sparking in his chest.

“Gracie doesn’t have much to say lately,” Louis says softly, looking down at the floor.  She squeezes his hand like there’s some unspoken code between them, and when he meets Harry’s eyes again, he shrugs.

“’S okay,” Harry assures with a nod, turning his attention to her.  “You don’t need to say anything.”  He watches as gratitude takes over Louis’ face as he mouths a silent thank you.  

“I had quite the baking emergency the other day.  I reckon I could’ve used your help,” Louis says, and Harry’s brows furrow, momentarily forgetting he ever said anything to him about working in a bakery.

“Well, you know where to find me,” he replies with a wink before turning his attention to Gracie, and if he’s not imagining it, Louis flushes a light shade of pink.  “Is there anything I can help you find?  I see you’ve already found our stuffed animals!”

Louis laughs loudly, eyes crinkling at the corners.  “Oi, she’s got too many, don’tcha, angel?”

Gracie seems to disagree, shaking her head and giving Louis a pointed look, still remaining silent. It causes both Harry and Louis to start laughing, and there’s another tiny smile that makes its way onto her face.

“Can I show you something, sweetheart?” Harry asks Gracie, and his eyes flit to Louis for a moment, wanting his approval first, and he nods, eyes blue like the summer sky.  He holds out his hand, and Gracie slips her hand into his, looking up at him.  “Well, Miss Gracie, did you know I have a faerie that watches over this shop?”

She shakes her head, and her eyes widen almost imperceptibly, but it makes him smile as he nods, taking her over to the house in the center of the shop and kneeling down to be eye level with her.  He opens the tiny door, fingers already covered in glitter, and she curiously peers in, lashes fanning out on her cheeks and looking so, so in awe.

His heart feels like it could burst out of his chest because this is why he does what he does, this is the exact reaction he wanted.  She stares intently at the tiny furniture inside, the miniature tea cups, the small bed with moss for a blanket, and she’s totally enamored.  For a moment, he thinks back to Gemma as a child, same ashen blonde hair, sharing his obsession with all things sparkly and magical and dainty. He somehow can’t believe he’s old enough to run a place like this and spread his love to other children when it seems like just yesterday they were the ones begging their mum for their own toys.

“Gracie loves faeries, don’t you, little love?” Louis asks, cutting through Harry’s thoughts, and she spares a glance over her shoulder at her father, nodding quickly before looking back at the house and touching it with gentle fingers.

Harry looks up at him, and they share a small smile, Louis making him feel warm, warm, warm.  “This is her house, and it’s my favorite thing in my shop,” Harry explains, and Louis crouches slightly so he can see it better.

“’S beautiful,” he murmurs, and Harry smiles appreciatively at him.

Harry looks at Gracie again, blonde hair falling into her face as she inspects the glittery house, and he instinctively tucks her hair back behind her ear.  “I’ve never seen the faerie,” he says to her softly, “but sometimes, when it’s very quiet, I can feel her.”  He closes his eyes, taking in a breath, just sitting like that for a few seconds for the effect.  “That’s how I know she’s watching over me.”

A smile comes over Gracie’s face, and she nods, just barely, staring at him like she’s waiting for him to go on.

“So, you can come visit her anytime you want, petal,” Harry says, and the grin on Gracie’s face gets larger as she nods again, and he can almost feel his chest constrict, feeling too, too much.  “I think she’d really like it if you came to visit her. I think she likes it when people come in here to say hi to her cause she likes to make friends and probably gets tired of talking to just me all the time.  She’s very special, just like you.”  He looks up at Louis and gives him a slight wink.

Louis moves over next to Gracie, stroking his hand over her hair lightly.  “I think Gracie would love that,” he answers for her, looking at her with so much love.  “I’m sure we’ll be back in to say hello.”

Harry stares for a beat too long, briefly wondering what it would be like to fit himself into their family: lazy Sunday mornings cuddling in bed, sunny days spent in the backyard playing footie, reading all his favorite stories to Gracie before bed.  When he blinks again, that vision is gone, remembering Louis has a _daughter_ and is probably _married_.  “You’re welcome here any time.”

Louis pulls his phone out of his pocket, clicking the button.  “Oh, shoot, ‘m sorry to go so abruptly, but my shift started two minutes ago. We’ve gotta get goin’, love.”

Gracie takes one last long look at the house before looking up at Louis and nodding sullenly. “She’ll still be here whenever you come back, I promise,” Harry whispers to her before he stands up, and Gracie smiles again.  “Um, have a good shift, and I’ll see you ‘round, Louis?”

He nods, tugging at Gracie’s hand and starting toward the door.  “I’m sure of it, Curly.  Have a good grand opening!”  With a wave, he’s out the door, and Harry takes a moment to catch his breath.  He knows he’s grinning like an idiot, staring dreamily out the door after him, but he can’t even control his face, and he feels like he’s back in school crushing on the cutest boy he’s ever seen.

“Maybe next time he comes in you can get him to buy something,” comes Gemma’s voice, and he’s so startled, so deep in his Louis-induced trance that he jumps when he hears the sound.  She laughs loudly, and he just scowls in response.  “We’ll talk about it later, though, H.”

He hopes she forgets.

*

She doesn’t forget.

They’ve made it all the way through dinner – box mac and cheese because sometimes you’re too tired to enjoy finer in things in life – and they’ve moved onto a cheap bottle of red wine while they do each other’s nails, box of Finding Dory cookies sitting on the table, and Harry thinks he’s safe, thinks she’s decided not to bring the whole Louis thing up.

“So,” she says easily, dragging a thick coat of burgundy over Harry’s thumbnail, dipping the brush back into the bottle.  He knows exactly what’s coming, can read her like a book, but he still doesn’t want to hear it.  “About Louis...”

He groans, shoulders sagging as he picks up his wine glass with his unpainted hand.  “There’s nothing to talk about, Gems.  He’s got a daughter.”

And sure – he could talk about Louis’ long eyelashes or his angled cheekbones or his scruff with the tinge of red to it or the way that his expression softens whenever he looks at Gracie or that the crinkles by his eyes when he smiles make Harry’s heart flutter. He could talk about all of that, but if he did, he’d never live it down.

“But he doesn’t have a wife _or_ a husband,” she responds, waggling her brows, and he’s about to ask how she knows that when she finishes, “Unless they don’t wear rings.  Cause he doesn’t wear one.”

And huh.  Harry definitely didn’t notice that, but then again, he supposes he wasn’t really looking.  Most of his focus right now is on the shop and making the first few months a success, and it’s not a total lie when he says he isn’t really ready to juggle a relationship along with that.  “I just don’t wanna jump into anything,” he tells her lamely.  “Like, there’s a lot riding on this shop, y’know, and it’s been a lot of hard work, and I can’t just...”  He trails off with a pathetic shrug, not wanting to have this conversation.

Gemma smiles wanly, methodically painting his nails.  It’s soothing, and it’s always been their thing – a way to unwind, a way to catch up. “You’re allowed to do something for you, Hazza.”  He goes to cut in, but she shakes her head and continues before he can speak.  “I know you’ve got the shop and everything, but love has quite literally walked in the door, and don’t be your usual daft self and let him get away.  Not when you have this hot dad hot for you.”

He bursts out laughing, shaking his head.  “He’s not hot for me.”

“Oh, please,” Gemma drawls with a roll of her eyes.  She puts down the bottle of nail polish and pops a cookie in her mouth.  “When you were showing his daughter that faerie house, you could see how fond of you he was from fucking outer space.”  

Harry tries to picture Louis’ expression from earlier today, but all that comes to mind are Gracie’s wide eyes glittering as he explained the faerie to her.  But that’s just it, isn’t it?  Regardless of whether or not Louis is interested in him, he has a _daughter_ , and would there even be a place for him in their family life or would he just be intruding?  He pulls his lip between his teeth, shaking his head again.

“Listen,” she says, cutting through his thoughts.  “If anyone in the world is ready to take on fatherhood, it’s you.  You’ve been ready to be a dad since we were, like, six years old and you played house with all the girls in the neighborhood, Haz.”

He giggles.  “Someone had to play the dad, yeah?”

Gemma rolls her eyes with a laugh.  “Come off it, you adore kids and always have, so that’s not the problem here, is it?”

Harry takes in a deep breath and shrugs again, feeling stupid for even having this conversation. “Like, there’s a line there, isn’t there?  It’s not like I’m just asking a guy out on a date – he has a family, y’know, this isn’t just himself he has to worry about, and I don’t wanna be the one to read the situation wrong and make a total tit of myself.”

“You wouldn’t,” Gemma assures, dragging the brush over his nails again.  She purses her lips before speaking again, looking like she’s searching for the right thing to say.  Harry so desperately wants to change the subject.  “He’s clearly interested in you, but if you’re going to be stubborn and not do anything about it, then there’s nothing I can do.”

“I’m glad you see it from my side.”

“I never said th – ”

He grins wickedly, stopping her with a waving hand motion.  “Pass the remote, yeah?  Strictly’s gonna be on and I’m very interested to see Dougie Poynter’s bum in his dancing pants.”

She throws the remote at his chest but there’s no force behind it, saying, “I’m not done with you, H.”

He turns the volume up louder, trying to drown her out.  Gemma gasps in mock offense as he gives her a pointed look, but she shuts up about Louis for the rest of the night.

Harry considers it a win.

*

Stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, Louis looks up at the clock and sees 9:02 staring back at him. He wasn’t supposed to close today, but at the last minute, Niall asked him to cover so he could go see a mate’s band play, and since he’s helped out so much with Gracie, Louis couldn’t say no. He’s missed her bedtime, though, and his heart hurts more than he thought it would when he thinks about the fact that his girl will be asleep by the time he gets home and he’s barely seen her all day.  He didn’t really know it was possible to miss someone this much, but he’s learned a lot of things about himself over the past couple months.

Dragging a rag across the back counter, he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks behind him at Perrie. “Go home, Lou,” she says softly. Her eyes are ice blue and surrounded by pink glitter eyeshadow that looks especially sparkly under the lights.

“Pez, no, ‘s alright. The Irish one would have me head if I left.”  He makes a chopping motion with his hand, and Perrie rolls her eyes but laughs loudly.

“That’s rubbish and you know it,” she counters, sticking her tongue out.  “Seriously, go home, yeah?  Gracie needs you more than I do.”

He grins at the mention of her name, and he wonders if it’s being a dad that’s made him a permanent softie or if that’s always been in him, hidden somewhere.  “You absolutely sure?”

“’Ve closed a billion times by myself before, so shoo!  Go get something nice for dinner and tell Gracie I send my love.”

Louis smiles as he takes off his apron and hangs it on the hook on the back wall, trading it for his jacket.  He plants a quick kiss on Perrie’s cheek before heading toward the door.  “I owe you one, ta, love!”

She waves him out with a grin, and he walks out into the cold air, wind nipping at his cheeks and chilling him to his core.  “Fucking hell,” he mumbles to himself, pulling his coat tighter around his face. He’s always preferred summer sun to snow.

Before he can even process it, his realizes feet are taking him towards Harry’s shop rather than to his flat, completely in the opposite direction.  He doesn’t know why he wants to walk by (he does, but he won’t admit it to himself), and logically, he knows Harry won’t be working since it’s so late, but that doesn’t stop him from scurrying down the street.  To his surprise, there’s a dim light on, and when he cups his hands to peer in the window, Harry’s sitting in the middle of the floor clad in an oversized lilac sweater, tapping his lip with a pen.

Louis smiles despite himself and knocks on the window.  Harry startles, holding a hand to his chest, and Louis momentarily feels bad.  He looks up from the pad in his lap and squints at the window, face changing completely when he recognizes Louis.  He quickly hops up, running toward the door in socked feet and unlocks it.  “Louis? What are you – ”

“Let me in, Curly!” Louis tells him, brushing past him to head inside.  “’M freezing my fucking bollocks off out there!”

Harry laughs, and the deep sound is almost warmer than the shop itself.  When Louis looks at him again, he realizes there’s a pencil tucked in Harry’s bun, and god, this boy is something else.  “Why are you here so late?”

“Oh, um, doing inventory,” Harry tells him, motioning to the papers spread out across the floor.  “’S easier to do it here rather than my flat, so. Less distractions from my sister this way.”  He scratches the back of his neck and shrugs, looking back to Louis.  “Why are you out so late, hm?  Hot date?”

He smiles with a shake of his head.  “No dates for me.  Haven’t had one for awhile, actually, but you’re not my therapist, and I’m not here to talk about my lack of a love life.”  An expression he can’t really recognize washes over Harry’s face – relief, maybe? – but he continues on.  “Was working late at the shop cause Niall had a thing with some lads tonight, so.”  He swallows the urge to say _I just wanted to see you_.

“Well, you’re a good mate, then,” Harry tells him earnestly.  “Is someone watching Gracie?”

Something twists pleasantly in him that Harry even though to ask.  “Liam picked her up today and took care of her tonight so I could cover for Niall. ‘S the first time I’ve missed her bedtime, so it feels kinda weird.”  He doesn’t know why he’s admitting this, but Harry’s nodding like he understands.  “I was gonna go grab dinner if you wanted to come?”  Louis realizes what he’s said after he’s said it, and it’s too late to take it back, so he tacks on a, “no pressure or anything” even though Harry’s grin rivals the sun.

“I really wish I could, Lou, but I’m in over my head with all this shit.”  He laughs humorlessly and motions again to the papers on the floor. “I should’ve done this a few nights ago, and believe me, I’d much rather be hanging out with you, but I really can’t tonight.  Raincheck, please?”

Louis knows he has no right to feel the sadness that washes over him, especially when Harry looks genuinely upset about saying no.  He nods, though, forcing a smile as he says, “Of course.  Responsibilities and all that.”

Harry smiles sadly with a nod.  “I should, um.  Probably get back to my stuff so I can actually go home and sleep or summat.”

“Right, right, of course.” Louis instinctively takes a few steps closer to the door.

“Thanks for stopping in, Louis.  It’s really nice to see you.”  He grins as he says it, pulling a sleeve of his jumper over his hand.  “It made this boring process a little nicer.”

“I have a way of doing that,” he tells Harry with a wink.  “Have a good night.”  With a wave of his fingers, Louis is out the door and starting on the way back to his flat. He’s already missing Harry even though he’s not even really sure why.

He shivers once he’s back outside, shoving his hands in his pockets as his stomach growls.  He figures Liam probably hasn’t saved him any dinner, so it’s best if he just gets something on the way home.  There’s a burger joint he loves that’s across the street and two blocks away, so he quickens his pace to get back into the heat as fast as he can.

Louis breathes a sigh of relief when he finally makes it inside, unbelievably glad when he looks around and sees the place is empty, no worry of having to wait in line.  He orders his favorite burger with a side of fries, and at the last second, he tells the guy behind the counter, “actually, make that two burgers and two medium fries, please,” deciding that even if Harry’s too busy for dinner, he’ll bring something to him.  He pays in a flash, and then he’s heading back to the shop, cold weather be damned.

When Louis reaches the store, he finds Harry sitting in the same position, dragging his fingers through his long hair and untangling the mess taking out his bun has left. He goes straight for the door, knowing Harry didn’t lock it when he left the first time.  “Knock, knock, Curly,” Louis greets him with a smile, waving the bag in the air.  “Shouldn’t leave that door unlocked.  You’re at risk for attracting crazies like me.”

Harry bellows out a laugh, clamping his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound.  It’s unbearably cute and has totally confirmed that it was worth it to walk through the freezing weather to get this boy dinner.  “If they’re all like you, I don’t think I’d mind.” There’s a silence, and Louis feels his cheeks heating up before Harry can tack on, “but, um, what are you doing here?”

“Even if you’re too busy to come out to dinner, you’ve gotta have something to eat, right?  So I brought you a burger.  Got meself one, so I figured I’d get you the same.”  He walks over to where Harry’s still perched on the floor and hands him the bag.  Their fingers brush lightly, and there’s a fire ablaze in the pit of Louis’ stomach.

“Oh, Christ, you didn’t have to do this,” he replies gratefully, eyes sparkling under the dim light. He opens the bag and takes a whiff adorably, looking up at Louis.  “Thank you so much.  Um, let me just get my wallet to pay you ba – ”

Louis shakes his head, waving his hand to halt Harry.  “Don’t worry about it, yeah?  Just wanted to do something nice for you since you’ve been so good to Gracie and me.”

The look on Harry’s face is so open, so _sincere_ that Louis wants to live in this moment forever, always have Harry looking at him like this.  Before he can even fully register what’s going on, Harry’s standing up and throwing his arms around him and all he can smell is sweet vanilla and citrus and _Harry_ and his nose is buried in the softest, loveliest curls he’s ever felt.  “Thank you,” he whispers into Louis’ ear before pulling away.  “’S lovely of you to even think of me.”

He feels like he’s made of sparks and electricity, feeling static all through his body when he grins at Harry.  He really, _really_ likes him and wouldn’t mind spending the rest of forever with him, but there’s Gracie and there’s so many other things that feel like they’re standing in the way.  He stops himself from thinking any further and just decides to enjoy this moment where everything is simple and perfect.  “Of course, Haz,” he says, nickname coming out easily.  “’Ve gotta get home, but good luck with your inventory.”

“It’ll go by much faster now that ‘ve got food,” he laughs, sitting down again and popping a fry in his mouth.  “Tell Gracie I say hello!”

“Will do.”  He waves, and maybe they stare at each other for a beat too long, but he’d look at Harry forever if he could.  He shakes off the thought and forces himself to leave, heart beating loudly.

He doesn’t stop smiling all the way home.

*

When Louis gets back to his flat, he tries to make as little noise as possible.  Checking the time on his phone, he sees it’s just after ten, and responsible Liam is probably already in bed.  He knows Gracie’s long asleep, but he plans to sneak into her room to give her a goodnight kiss anyway.

He toes off his shoes in the doorway, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it over a nearby chair in the living room.  He knows Liam will complain that he’s being messy, but he can’t bring himself to care – he’s too elated from having spent some time with Harry.  He walks into the kitchen quietly, socks sliding on the clean floor, and notices the light above the sink is still on.  He heads over to turn it off, assuming it was left on just for him, when he notices a plate of four Oreos with a note next to it.

There’s wonky, uneven printing written in hot pink crayon.

_I left you sum cookies!! I mist you tonite! Love, Gracie_

He gasps when he reads it, tears immediately flooding his eyes.  “Oh my god,” he whispers, sounding so loud in the quiet house. He covers his face with his hand, smiling and crying all at once.  “Oh my god.”  He reads it over and over until the tears blur his vision, until he’s full on crying and wiping his tears with the sleeve of his shirt.  He laughs a little, just a breathy sound of joy before he wipes his tears again.

Louis knew she’d try to communicate again when she was ready, and his heart feels way too big for his body.  He feels like he finally has tangible evidence that he’s doing something right, that going back to his old life was the right thing to do for Gracie.

“Rough night?”

Louis turns around to see Liam enter the kitchen, clad in worn pajamas that drag on the ground.  He shakes his head with a light laugh, blinking a few times against the tears still in his eyes.  “Did you see this?” he asks, holding up the Post-It.

Liam’s brows furrow as he walks over, taking the note in his hand.  Louis watches his face transform into an expression of wonder and love as he reads it.  “Lou.” It holds all the weight in the world, and all Louis can do is nod as he pulls his best mate into a hug. Liam pats his back a few times, and he’s grinning.  “This is, like, really big isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Louis breathes, looking at the note again before putting it on the counter.  “We can count this as proper communication, can’t we?”

Liam nods, and Louis can see his brown eyes shining with tears under the kitchen lights.  “Think so.”

*

“We can’t keep meeting like this.”

Harry’s almost out the door of the coffee shop, but the familiar voice stops him in his tracks.  When he turns, Louis is giving him a cheeky grin and waving slightly.  He takes a few steps back into the shop, feeling a shiver run down his spine at just the sight of him.  He thinks for a second what it would be like waking up to his gorgeous face every day, but the thought dissipates when he realizes he hasn’t said any actual words to him yet.

“Oh, hi,” Harry replies, feeling a smile come across his face.  He holds up his coffee in one hand and crinkling paper bag in the other. “Just stopped in for my afternoon fix. I didn’t see you behind the counter?”

Louis shakes his head, jerking his thumb behind him.  “My shift just ended, so I was in the back getting me stuff.  What’d ya get, Curly?”  He motions to the bag.

“A croissant,” Harry answers, and Louis wrinkles his nose, face scrunching up adorably.

“I figured you’d pick something more exciting than that,” he says easily, nodding his head toward the door and stepping in front of Harry to push it open, cold air feeling like a shock to Harry’s pleasantly warm skin.  “Y’know, a cupcake or a muffin or something.”

“’Ve gotten cupcakes the last three days in a row,” Harry explains with a laugh, and Louis’ eyes are shining.  He pats his belly gently, self-deprecatingly, saying, “I don’t think I can continue down that path.  Thank you for the burger the other night, by the way.”

Louis laughs brightly, earning looks from a few passersby as they stroll down the sidewalk.  “Oh, it was nothing.”  The walk to Harry’s shop is short, but he just wants this to last, wants to do anything to have more time with Louis.  He racks his brain for something to say as they match step for step, but his thoughts are unbearably blank as he opens the bag and rips off a bit of the croissant.  Louis cuts through the silence with a, “I don’t know much about you, Curly” that startles Harry slightly, turning to face him and only managing to blink in response. “But you’re apparently a cupcake lover.”

He chuckles, tilting his head.  They’re stopped at a crosswalk now, cars driving through while the pedestrian light stays red.  “I am,” he replies.  “Chocolate with vanilla buttercream is my favorite.”

“I’ll have to remember that.”  

Harry doesn’t ask why, just smiles when he feels butterflies explode in his stomach.  “What else do you wanna know?”

The light turns green as Louis hums thoughtfully, crossing the road together in sync.  “Dunno, really, just tell me three exciting facts about Harry Styles.”

He smiles, brain whirring in a thousand different directions as he tries to figure out the right things to say.  He figures he can play it coy, leave Louis wanting more, make himself enticing and endearingly mysterious.  “Well, I own a toy shop,” he answers, pointing to the sign that’s visible from their spot on the sidewalk, and Louis lets out a huff.

“Cheap shot,” he deadpans, and Harry sticks his tongue out, breaking off another piece of the croissant to munch on.

“I love faeries.  And mermaids.”

“I figured you loved faeries cause of the faerie house and your shop name,” Louis tells him with a slight shake of the head.  “You’re telling me the obvious here, Styles.”

“’Ve got a mermaid tattoo I doubt you’ve seen because it’s been cold as bollocks since you’ve known me,” Harry retorts, and he watches Louis’ brows shoot towards his hairline, feeling oddly satisfied with himself.

Louis licks his lips. “Tell me – it’s not on your arse, is it?”

Harry lets out a guffaw, covering his mouth with his hand.  He shakes his head and shoves his coffee into Louis’ hand, rolling up the sleeve of his sweater just past his elbow. He shows Louis the tattoo that adorns the outside of his arm, pointing at the mermaid.  She’s naked, in all her glory, tail curving around his arm, and he smiles at it, incredibly in love with her.  

Louis reaches out to gently run his fingers over it, and Harry feels a trail of sparks in the wake of his touch, shaking him down to his core.  He smiles at him, closed lipped like he’s considering it, finally saying, “Suits you.  I like it.”

“Thank you.  I rather like her myself.”  Harry pulls his sleeve back down and takes his coffee back, feeling his heart beat a little faster when their fingers brush. They’re nearly to Harry’s shop now, only a few steps away, and there’s still a third fact he hasn’t told Louis. “And um, a third thing.”  He’s drawing a blank again, filling the silence with a dramatically drawn out _hmmm_. “Well, I auditioned for X-Factor when I was 16.  That’s something not quite obvious.”

“You’re fucking with me!” he exclaims excitedly, smacking Harry’s shoulder playfully.  “That’s massive!  How far did you make it?”

Harry shakes his head, making a cutting motion with his hand.  “I own a toy shop, don’t I?  How far do you think?”

Louis ducks his head down in something like embarrassment, laughing while his fringe falls in his eyes. “Fair point.”

“Made it to the judges’ houses, so that counts for something, doesn’t it?”  

He feels silly talking about something he did nearly eight years ago as some sort of accomplishment, but Louis looks so genuinely interested that he’d talk forever. “That’s wicked,” he tells Harry, eyes alight, and there’s a fire burning in his stomach as they come to a stop outside his shop.  There’s something so electric about having Louis’ full attention on him, something that makes him want to squirm away from his beautiful gaze but something else that makes him want to preen and soak up every second.  “You’ve got to sing for me, then.”

Harry nearly chokes on the piece of croissant in his mouth, coughing and sputtering unattractively a few times before catching his breath and shaking his head.  “God, no.  It’s been years since I’ve sung in front of anyone.  I only do private concerts for my shower tiles.”

“Well, Harold.  I’m not just ‘anyone,’ am I?”  He looks all too pleased with himself when he says it, a tilt to his head, proud and sharp and spiky but soft, and Harry rolls his eyes as he pretends to mull it over.  He thinks he’d probably do just about anything for Louis at this point.

“Fine, then,” he replies with a nod, sounding more confident than he actually feels, “any requests?”

“’M not picky,” Louis answers with a shake of his head, and he grins wolfishly, Harry’s heart hammering in his chest.  “But I do expect a good show since ‘ve got front row seats.”

“What, like you had to pay extra?” Harry laughs, and Louis’ brows shoot up like he’s clearly not used to being matched in his game of sarcasm.  The look of surprise dissolves into laughter, and it’s quickly becoming Harry’s favorite sound in the world.

“This isn’t getting you out of singing, Styles.”

He makes a split second decision as he sets his coffee cup down next to him on the sidewalk, mind automatically going to “Hey Soul Sister,” the song he chose _not_ to sing for his audition right at the last second. (His wonders for a short moment where he’d be if he hadn’t changed his song, if he’d done something differently, but quickly enough he realizes he probably wouldn’t be standing on a street corner about to sing for Louis if he’d made it through, so he decides fate’s plan for him turned out more than okay.)

Harry clears his throat loudly for effect, and a few people walking by shoot him curious glances, but Louis is smiling, golden under the cloudy sky.

“ _Your lipstick stains on the front lobe of my left-side brains. I knew I wouldn’t forget ya, and so I went and letcha blow my mind_...”  

His voice rings out raspy and loud, and he might even sound better out here than he does when he’s singing in the shower.  Louis nods along, and he sort of feels like he can fly.  The melody flows out easily, Louis’ face scrunched up in happiness like he’s so pleased with himself for getting Harry to do this.  He knows he should feel ridiculous standing in front of his shop and belting out a Train song, but somehow with Louis right there in front of him, it feels right.

Harry makes it through the first verse and chorus, surprised that he even remembers all the words, and takes a flamboyant bow for his big finish.  Louis starts applauding, yelling, “Bravo, encore, encore!” while Harry bats his hand like it’s nothing, and two other people who have somehow gathered to watch are shooting him smiles.  Before walking away, a man tosses a coin into Harry’s cup that’s still full of coffee.

He picks it up off the ground and pouts at it, looking from the cup to Louis.  “Ruined my bloody drink,” he says with a hint of a whine, and Louis shoves his shoulder good naturedly with a laugh.

“You should’ve gotten a lot farther than the judges’ houses, I reckon,” he says, and his tone is so earnest Harry inexplicably wants to cry.

He smiles at Louis before shifting his eyes to the ground, too overwhelmed to look directly at him. “Think ‘m okay with where I am now,” Harry answers after a pause, and he can feel Louis’ smile even when he’s not looking at him.

“Think I am, too, Curly.”

The air feels thick suddenly, like they’re the only two people on earth, like the hustle and bustle around them has stopped.  It feels too much and not enough, so Harry breaks the moment with a soft, “Think I’d be better if I didn’t have coffee with a coin sitting at the bottom.”

Louis throws his head back in laughter.  “Compelling argument.  I’ll go get you another one.  Consider it my version of a Grammy for a stellar performance,” he tells him, and with a wink he turns and starts back down the street, Harry biting his lip to suppress a grin as he watches him go.

*

Harry heads into the coffee shop the next day for an afternoon pick-me-up, instinctively looking over the counter to see if he can spot a familiar tuft of caramel-colored fringe. Instead he’s met with a shocking purple ponytail and a girl who has ‘Perrie’ written on her name tag surrounded by star stickers.  He tries to hide his disappointment when she turns to look at him, smile wide.  “What can I get for you today?”

“Um.”  He shifts his gaze to the board above her, scanning over it for a few seconds before settling on, “a caramel macchiato, please, and a cranberry muffin to go.”

“You got it,” she chirps, ponytail swinging as she turns to get started on the drink.

Harry tries to look over the counter to see if anyone else is there, but it seems even Niall is absent today.  There’s another man standing at the register that Harry vaguely remembers, chatting amiably to another customer who’s already sipping his drink.  Before Harry can stop himself, the words come tumbling from his lips.  “Is Louis working today?”

Perrie turns, shaking her head.  She’s grinning slightly, and Harry can’t place why.  “Sorry, love.  He took the day off today.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”  He tucks his hands into his coat pocket, looking down at his boots to try to hide the frown that’s taken over his face.

“Are you Harry?” comes a voice he doesn’t recognize and he turns to see the man who had been talking to the cashier facing him now.  He’s dressed in a brown peacoat and jeans, hair shaved close to his head and scruff on his cheeks.  Harry nods tentatively, wondering why and how this man he’s never seen before knows who he is.  “I knew it!” he chuckles, clearly pleased with himself.  “Liam Payne, Louis’ best mate since primary.”  He holds his hand out.

Harry shakes his hand, still confused as to why Louis’ best friend is introducing himself, but he goes with it as he tries to piece it together, wondering what this means. “Harry Styles.  I own the toy shop down the road,” he says, pointing vaguely in that direction.

“Oh, believe me, I know. Louis talks about you all the time, mate,” Liam explains with a delighted laugh, taking another sip of his drink.

Harry feels his heart rate speed up, and he can feel his cheeks burning.   _Louis talks about him.  Louis actually fucking talks about him._  It takes a beat for his brain and mouth to catch up, but he grins in response, hopefully not too belatedly.  “Oh, um, he’s very lovely.  He’s only told you good things, I hope?” he answers, and that gets another laugh out of Liam, his face scrunching up like a puppy.

“Great things,” Liam assures, patting his shoulder, and Harry wants to press and asks what exactly that means but refrains since Liam is still a total stranger.  He feels like this is some sort of test he has to pass – gain Liam’s approval and the rest will come easily.  “The reason he’s not here today is ‘cause it was parent-teacher day at Gracie’s school, so he had to be there for her.  He hasn’t had a lot of free time lately with everything going on and her starting at school, but I’m sure once things calm down you’ll be hearing from him.”

Harry knows he must be blushing furiously by now, feeling like he’s red all over, but he nods, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.  “’S understandable, though, not having much free time.  Especially with a daughter as young as Gracie.”

“His niece,” Liam corrects gently, and the confused look on Harry’s face must say it all.

“His – ” Harry starts, not getting any other words out, and his brain is going into overdrive, unable to come up with any coherent thoughts.   _Why does he have his niece why hasn’t he said anything about this before why has he taken her in when he’s still so young oh god he’s incredible to do this but what happened why did –_

“That’s his story to tell you, not mine,” Liam tells him sheepishly, looking guilty for even saying anything, and Harry’s thoughts come to a screeching halt.  It’s a look of protectiveness, like he just wants to do what’s best for both Louis and Gracie, and Harry can’t fault him for a second, knowing he’d do the same for his good friends.  “I just assumed he’d told you?”

He shakes his head.  “No, right, yeah, of course,” he replies, and he knows he’s stopped making any sense at all, but he can’t wrap his mind around it and just wants answers he isn’t going to get right now.  “Of course it should be him that tells me, I understand.”

Liam smiles then, and Harry feels like he’s passed whatever test this was, feeling his body tingle all the way to his toes when Liam tells him, “Good lad, I appreciate it.  ‘Ve gotta get off to work, but it was so nice meeting you, Harry, especially after Louis has told me so much about you.  I’ll have to tell him I saw you today.”

“Please do,” Harry tells him with a grin, “and tell Gracie I say hello, too, please, and that I’d love for her to come visit my shop again when she can.”

He smiles, all warmth and gentleness, and it’s easy to see why Louis likes him so much.  “Reckon she’d go absolutely mad for that.  I’ll pester Lou and tell him to bring her in.”  He turns back toward the counter, calling, “See ya, Olly, see ya, Pez!”

“Bye, Li,” they yell in unison, and with one last wave to Harry, he’s out the door, leaving a cold gust of wind in his wake.

“Drink’s up, love,” Perrie tells Harry from the cash register, holding it in the air as he walks a few steps down to the counter.  She folds the top of the bag with the muffin in it down a few times, starting to smirk. “Louis is proper gone for you, y’know.”

Harry looks away, pulling the money out of his pocket, and when he looks back at Perrie, her eyebrows are quirked.  “He really is, Harry.  Li’s not wrong – he talks about you all the time.”

He isn’t sure what the proper response to that is, so he nods.  “He’s, um, pretty wonderful.”

“And quite fit, yeah?” she asks, taking the cash from his hand.  

Harry blushes again, but there’s a fire making home in his chest that fills all the cracks with thoughts of Louis.  “Yeah, quite fit,” he agrees, laughing a little as he throws his change in the tip jar.

“He’ll be back tomorrow.” She leans forward, elbows on the counter like she’s about to tell him a secret. “And I’m absolutely positive he’d love to see you, so I expect to see your lovely face back here then.”

“’M sure that can be arranged.”

She gives him a look he can’t quite decipher, like she’s studying him, sizing him up, and his heart drops into his stomach for a moment, feeling strangely scrutinized.  “I get it,” Perrie says easily, taking a few steps back from the counter.  His brows knit together, feeling unsure as he looks back at her.  “Why Lou’s so smitten.  You’ve got this, like, vibe about you – I can’t explain it, but it’s like magic.  It’s a good aura.”

Harry isn’t completely sure what to make of that but knows it’s a compliment, so he smiles at her and gives her a nod.  “Well, um, thank you,” he answers, taking the bag in his hand.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“I _better_ see you tomorrow,” she tells him, but it’s non-threatening, paired with her wide smile and a flip of her ponytail behind her.  “It’ll make Louis’ day.  Have a good one, Harry!”

“You, too, Perrie.”

He’s out the door with a _whoosh_ of cold air that nips at his cheeks and causes him to pull to collar of his coat up higher around his neck.  He tucks his chin down into his coat for the short walk back to his shop, trying to stop himself from thinking about how Louis has taken in his niece, and he still doesn’t have all the details.  He guesses he doesn’t really know that much about Louis at all, never getting to spend any alone time with him.  He shakes his head at himself for over-thinking and instead focuses on both Perrie and Liam saying Louis talks about him all the time.  He guesses he never really thought about the role he played in Louis’ life, never really thought about Louis talking to him outside the glass bubble of their conversations, but his tummy swoops pleasantly when he thinks about Louis waxing poetic to his friends.  He’s involuntarily smiling as the thoughts swirl through his head, opening the door.

The shop’s empty save for Gemma when he walks inside, grateful that their heat is set on high. There’s always a lull mid-afternoon before the kids get out of school and beg their parents to come in, sometimes dragging them by the hand.  “Got your muffin.”  Harry holds up the bag, and Gemma walks over to him wearing a cheerful smile.

“Thank you, dear brother.” She kisses his cheek as she pulls it out of the bag, taking a bite.  “What are you so happy about?”  She pokes at his dimple and he swats her hand away.  “Did you see a certain someone named Louis?”  She waggles her eyebrows obnoxiously, causing Harry to roll his eyes.

“He took today off.” He tries his hardest not to let disappointment creep into his tone, but he knows doesn’t really succeed when Gemma lets out a little squawk of a laugh.  He contemplates mentioning that Liam said Gracie is Louis’ _niece_ , which still leaves him with so many questions, but chooses to leave that out for right now or he’ll never hear the end of it from her.  “But, um, I met his best mate, and he said he talks about me a lot?  So, like, that’s gotta be good, right?”

“I told you he’s interested!” Gemma exclaims, and she jumps up and down a few times, frantically hitting Harry’s shoulder, and it’s times like these where he wonders how she’s supposed to be the older and more mature one.  “See!”

Harry laughs with a shrug, not wanting to talk about it because he knows he’ll get far too embarrassed. “Maybe.”

“What else did he say?  I need the details, Hazza, I can’t live this way.”

“That’s it, really,” Harry says honestly, “only spoke to him for a mo, but he said he’s heard a lot about me, so.”  He feels his face heating up as he says it, ready for merciless teasing from his sister.

Instead, though, she just pinches his cheek gently and says, “Aww, you’re positively pink.”

He ignores her, staring down at his shoes.  “And his co-worker told me I have a good aura.  ‘M not quite sure what that’s supposed to mean, but I guess it’s a good thing.”

She smiles, brushing off the shoulder of his coat.  He looks at her curiously, watching as glitter floats to the ground, some of it sticking to her hand.  “Bet that’s just the faerie dust,” she whispers, laughing as she walks away.

Harry touches the shoulder of his coat, pulling his hand away to see all the flakes that are stuck to his fingers.  He chuckles a bit, thinking maybe it _was_ the faerie dust that caused him to have a good aura but knowing that’s not why Louis won’t stop talking about him.

He’s gotta be doing something right.

*

“I get done at two today, so maybe we can go to the playground when I’m done, yeah?” Louis is saying to Gracie, but he can already tell she’s not listening, knowing she’s understandably dreading having to sit with him in the coffee shop for a few hours on a Saturday.  He’s in a bind and doesn’t have Liam or Niall to watch her today, and he feels like he’s running out of ways to make it up for her.

He swings their hands as they walk down the street, but she comes to a halt.  “C’mon, love, we’ve gotta – ”

She gives him a pointed look, and he stops himself, realizing they’re standing outside Harry’s shop.  He can just see inside where Harry’s bent down with a tiger puppet on his hand, waving it in front of a little boy’s face while they both giggle hysterically.  He looks in fondly, pang of _something_ in his chest, the familiar feeling of wanting Harry to be a forever thing in his life.  “Only a few minutes, alright?  Everyone at the shop’s gonna get real bloody sick of me being late.”

Gracie doesn’t seem to care, though, and drops his hand to run right in.  When he follows a few paces behind, he sees her staring at the faerie house, fingers resting on the soft moss lining it.  She’s content to just look at the house, but Louis stupidly wants Harry’s attention, standing in the doorway and picking at a loose thread on the bottom of his coat.  It takes only a moment for Harry to notice him, and then he’s quickly saying his goodbyes to the little boy and coming over to Louis.

“Lou!  Hi!” he says brightly.  He’s dressed in a black shirt that says Styles on it today, long hair falling in tousled waves over his shoulders.  He looks so unfairly gorgeous for being so casually dressed that Louis’ mouth feels dry.  “Where’s Gracie?”

Louis points toward the faerie house and Harry smiles.  “By her favorite toy.  I reckon she’d move into your shop if it meant she got to spend all her time with the faerie.  I’m half convinced she likes her better than me.”

Harry laughs loudly, running his hand through his beautiful curls.  “Nah, she loves you a lot.”

Louis waves off the compliment, but his stomach flips pleasantly.  “Sorry I missed you yesterday, I had to go to parent-teacher conferences,” he says softly, and Harry just shrugs with a smile.  “Liam said he ran into you.  ‘M sorry if he said any weird shit to you – you know how nosy best mates can be.  Protective little bastard.”

“He didn’t,” Harry answers, and Louis tries to tell if he’s lying, but Harry seems as sincere as ever. “It was, um.  Nice to meet him.  A good surprise, if I’m honest.”

He decides to challenge him, anyway.  “You can tell me if he said something weird, Haz.  I’ll have his arse.”

Harry laughs, eyes glittering, but he shakes his head emphatically.  “Really, Lou, he didn’t.  What brings you in today?”

“Well, I did want to apologize for not being there yesterday since I hear you were looking for me. You do know how to flatter a man, Curly.”  He covers his face with his hand for a moment, letting out a bit of a groan, and Louis is so, so gone.  “But really, ‘m working today, and I feel bad about Gracie having to sit in the shop with me all day, and she wanted to visit her faerie so here we are.”

“If you ever need me to watch her, or if you think she’d have more fun in here, it’s just down the road, and she can see her faerie.  I can – ”

Louis gently reaches out to touch Harry’s arm, and he’s all warmth, like he’s made of the sun’s rays, like a tropical holiday he never wants to leave.  “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I want to.”  The look on his face is so earnest, so serious that Louis can feel his heart swelling up, floating like a balloon in his chest.

He nods without much thought, feeling like he’s too full of love to even get the words out right.  “Thanks, Haz.  ‘S so kind of you to offer, but only if you really want.”

“I do.”  Harry smiles with a nod and heads over to Gracie, kneeling down next to her.  Louis’ heart is beating wildly as he watches them together, something feeling so right about having Harry right there with her.  

“Your faerie is so glad you came to visit her today,” Harry says to her, and Gracie leans into him, resting against his shoulder. “I think she’s been looking for you.”

She tilts her head curiously before bringing her gaze back to the tiny house.  “Y’know, petal, this faerie doesn’t have a name.”  She looks back at Harry like she’s waiting for him to continue.  “And ‘ve heard if you name a faerie, that means they’re yours forever, and that would mean she’d stay in her house in here because she’d feel so loved.  I don’t know what I should name her, but if you’ve got any suggestions, you can let me know when you’re ready.”

Watching Harry talk to Gracie makes Louis’ feel like he can fly, like all his love for them will allow him to soar high above the clouds.

“What an honor,” Louis murmurs as he kneels down next to her, kissing her head gently.  She keeps her eyes locked on the house.  “I’m sure you’ll come up with the most perfect name for your little friend, yeah?”

Harry smiles, illuminating the whole room.  “I know whatever you name her will be beautiful,” he tells Gracie with a nod.

Louis looks at his phone to check the time, and as much as he wants to stay in this bubble of glitter and magic, he’s ten minutes late and the real world is desperately calling him.  “Ladybug, we’ve gotta go.  ‘M so sorry, but I’m already late for my shift.”

She looks back at him with a frown, and he can’t blame her, especially when he wants to stay and stare at Harry for all hours of the day.  Harry’s face falls just a bit, smile dimmed so his dimples aren’t quite as prominent anymore.  Gracie gazes over at Harry, and like they’ve had an unspoken language all along, he assures her, “She’ll wait for you to name her, sweetheart.  She’s not going anywhere.”

Taking Gracie’s hand in his, Louis stands to his full height and Harry follows.  “Thank you for being so lovely to us,” he tells him, and Harry’s cheeks turn the softest shade of rose.

“You’ve been lovely to me, too,” he whispers, and there’s something about this moment that’s so intimate, so gentle that Louis doesn’t ever want to leave the shop.

It’s the weight of Gracie’s hand in his that brings him back to reality, and he looks down at her with a smile.  “We’ll be back to visit Harry soon, okay, darling?  And you can visit your faerie then, too.”  She spares him a glance, too fixated on the house, but nods.  “I’ll see you later, Haz.”

Harry waves as Louis and Gracie head back out into the blustery cold, heading down the block in silence, hands swinging between them.  “Isn’t it wicked that Harry’s letting you name the faerie?” he asks her, and her face is blank, like she’s thinking too hard.  They walk a few more paces as Louis says, “He must think you’re pretty special.”

He watches her lips curl into a smile when he says that, and before he can fully process, she’s dropping his hand and running back toward the shop.  “Gracie!” he yells after her, and he’s rushing as fast as he can down the street to catch up with her, nearly knocking into several people who sneer at him.  “Gracie!”

She darts back into the toy shop, and when Louis gets there a few steps behind her, he’s breathless. Gracie’s standing at the house again, and Harry’s eyes are wide with confusion as he walks back over to her.

“Gracie, you can’t just run off like – ”

Louis’ words are thoughts are cut short when Gracie grabs Harry’s hand with her small fingers. Harry looks over at Louis like he’s waiting for him to grant permission, but Louis has no idea what’s going on, no idea why she had to come right back here, and then.

 _And then_.

“Charlotte,” comes Gracie’s tiny voice, barely a whisper, just a tinkling sweet sound like an angel’s wings beating gently.

Louis gasps loudly, bringing his hand to cover his mouth, and the tears are filling his eyes, and the floodgates open as they spill down his cheeks.  He watches as Harry kneels to be eye level with her, their hands still laced together, and he softly says, “Is that what you want to name your faerie, petal?”

Gracie nods, genuine smile coloring her face as she whispers again, “Charlotte.”

He looks to Louis, nodding at her with a smile.  “I think that’s a beautiful name. She’ll love it.”

“Oh my god,” Louis chokes out, voice wavering as he runs over to Gracie and pulls her into his arms, giving her the biggest hug he can possibly manage. He _knew_ this day would come, _knew_ she’d finally speak when she was ready and now.  

It hits him again while his face is buried in her soft blonde hair, wetting it with his tears no doubt, and he sees Harry’s eyes shining brightly with tears, glistening green, green, green under the lights.  He knows Harry doesn’t understand the full gravity of the situation, but to see him emotional over it all makes Louis feel like there’s fireworks exploding inside him, his own tiny galaxy.

He pulls away, planting a kiss smack in the middle of Gracie’s forehead as he brushes wisps of hair away from her face.  She’s so beautiful, an exact tiny version of her mother, and he loves her more than anything.  Louis’ eyes are watering again, and he tries to make himself stop, but Gracie’s just said her first word after months of silence and he thinks crying is more than allowed.  He kisses her head again, laughing a little as he whispers to her, “I think that’s a perfect name, ladybug.”

It’s Gracie’s turn to throw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace, and he wraps one arm around her, wiping his eyes with his free hand.  Harry’s still looking on with a fond smile, and maybe magic really does happen in this toy store of his.

Louis stands up once they let go, drying the rest of his tears with his coat sleeve, and he’s about to apologetically tell Gracie they’ve got to get moving when he sees that she’s clutching tightly onto Harry’s hand again.  “Oh, I –” Harry starts to say as he looks down at her, but Louis shakes his head with a smile.

She adores Harry just as much as he does.

“Do you wanna stay here with Harry today?” Gracie smiles and nods, looking up at him, and Louis watches as Harry squeezes her hand gently, just like he always does.  “If that’s okay with you, Harry, then – ”

He’s cut off when Harry jumps in with, “It’s more than okay” with a grin on his face so big Louis feels like all his insides are a puddle.

“I’ll see you two after my shift, then,” Louis says softly, heart still feeling ten sizes too big, “and be good for Haz, okay, Gracie?”  He blows her a kiss and starts out the door, thinking that Harry fits perfectly into his forever.

*

Louis feels like a kid on Christmas waiting for Liam and Niall to reply to his text and tell him when they’re finally heading over.  He’d sent texts to their group chat that consisted only of the bright red exclamation mark emoji and siren emoji in a repeated pattern, and he’s not sure why that’s not getting their attention.

Gracie’s at the kitchen table coloring, and while she hasn’t spoken all that much, he still can’t believe she’s said anything at all, still can’t believe she whispered “thank you” in the most delicate tone when he picked her up from Harry’s shop today.  He keeps peeking in the room watching her, tongue sticking out of her mouth slightly in concentration, and he loves her with all he has.

He’s jittery waiting for his friends, and even though the bastards didn’t text him back, he hears a car door and scurries to the window.  Sure enough, the two of them are running out of the car up to the door, clumsily pushing each other out of the way, and Louis laughs loudly watching the two of them.

“Uncle Dumb and Uncle Dumber are here,” he tells Gracie with a snort, and she giggles into her hand, eyes alight.

“LOU!” rings Niall’s voice, followed by the slam of the door.  Louis meets them in the doorway, grin on his face as he watches his two disheveled friends wait for him to say something.  “What the fuck were your texts about, mate?”

“Is everyone okay?  You haven’t dropped Gracie on her head have you?” Liam asks concernedly.

“She’s bloody six years old, Liam, when would I have - ”

“She’s all in one piece, though, isn’t she?” he amends, eyes wide, and Louis can’t put his friends through this anymore.

“She’s speaking again.”

They both fall so quiet you could hear a pin drop, then as if they’ve heard the starting gun, the two of them start to race into the kitchen.  “Oi!” Louis exclaims, stopping them and pushing them further back.

“Fuck off, Tommo,” Niall tells him with a roll of his eyes, “gotta go talk to Gracie!”

“Don’t overwhelm her!” Louis whispers, knowing his friends mean well but also knowing how stupidly over-excited they can get.  They both roll their eyes at him before running into the kitchen, and as much as they’ve had their moments over the past few months, he’s so glad to see the two of them are as excited as he is about this moment.

Liam plops down on one side of Gracie, Niall on the other, and she looks up from her coloring book with a smile.  “I heard you’ve got some big news and didn’t even tell us?” Liam asks her, putting his hands on his hips in mock offense.  “What gives?”

“She wouldn’t tell you first cause you’re not her favorite uncle, Leemo,” Niall retorts, and Gracie laughs, face lit up like the sun.  “But why didn’tcha tell your favorite Uncle Ni, then, hm?”

“Maybe you’re not her favorite,” Liam answers with a shrug.

Louis joins them at the table with a laugh, shaking his head.  “Lads, it’s not fair to make her choose, yeah?”

“We’re grown men,” Niall retorts, puffing his chest out and making Gracie giggle, “we can take it!”

“So, who’s your favorite, kiddo?”  Liam pushes his lip into a pout, giving Gracie his best puppy face, and Louis rolls his eyes, but he knows how lucky he is to have Niall and Liam in his life.

She looks back and forth between them like she’s mulling it over, every so often sparing a glance for Louis.  He half wants her to say that she’s his favorite, confirm that she thinks he’s doing okay, but he already knows she won’t, and he’s fine with her having a favorite that’s as wonderful as his friends are.  She taps her chin thoughtfully, a little comedian in the making, and every time she switches her gaze from Niall to Liam, their grins grow and eyebrows waggle even more like it’ll make her choose them.

After a few moments of silence, Gracie declares, “Uncle Liam!”

Niall lets out a long, exasperated groan while Liam victoriously throws his arms in the air with a delighted shout.  Gracie laughs as she throws herself into his arms, giving him a big hug.  “No more cupcakes for you at the shop, Miss,” Niall tells her, crossing his arms as he pretends to be mad, but there’s a smile creeping onto his face that can’t be stopped.

“That’s okay cause I’ll sneak them to you whenever I’m there,” Liam promises her with a grin, pushing a few strands of blonde away from her face.  “I’ve still gotcha covered.”

“I will, too,” Louis tells her, winking, and Niall gasps over-exaggeratedly.

“I can’t believe all of ya are going against me!” he shouts, and Gracie takes pity on him, moving from Liam’s lap to Niall’s, grin on her face.  “I guess you’re still alright with me,” he says softly when she gives him a hug, “but I’ve got my eye on you two!” He points dramatically at Louis and Liam.

They all dissolve into giggles, and Louis can’t remember the last time he was this happy.

They spend the rest of the night together, ordering pizza for dinner and playing Uno in the living room.  Gracie trades cards with Niall and gives him her draw 4 card to make sure she’s completely on his good side again, and he just chuckles, promising her she’s always gonna be his favorite.  During bouts of laughter, Louis’ mind wanders to what it would be like to have Harry with them, Gracie curled in Harry’s lap instead of Liam’s, him sitting with them at the table in a soft sweatshirt, head thrown back in joyous laughter.  He shakes the thought, knowing now isn’t the time to think of him, but the mental picture comes back to him all night.

Niall leaves a few hours later when Gracie’s asleep on the couch with her Tinkerbell under her chin.  As Louis and Liam say their goodbyes, Niall pulls Louis into a tight hug whispering, “Charlotte would be so proud of ya, mate.”

Louis feels tears flood his eyes, and when they pull away, he smiles.  “Thanks, Nialler.”

After Niall’s left, and it’s Louis and Liam standing by the door, Liam looks at him for a moment like he’s trying to find the right words.  “She would be proud of you,” he affirms, brown eyes sincere.  “You’re doing a great job with Gracie.  I know I’ve been a dick sometimes, but really, truly, you’re doing a great job.”

He takes in a wavering breath, promising himself he won’t cry even though his efforts are futile.  He hugs Liam tightly, letting a few tears fall.  “Thank you,” he whispers earnestly.  “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Liam shrugs, patting Louis’ back.  “It’s been all you, mate.  Don’t sell yourself short.  And since you’ve got this whole parenting thing under control, now you can work on seducing Harry.  Shouldn’t be all that hard since he’s absolutely mad for you already.”

“Liiii,” he whines, shoulders sagging, but he’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind.  Liam quirks his brows, face hopeful.  “Maybe.”

“Consider it.  That’s all I ask,” he says with a grin, face squishing up, and then he’s heading away toward his room.

Louis thinks about what it would be like to have a flat with Harry instead of Liam, going to bed with him every night instead of alone, waking up with him and making breakfast with Gracie.  There’s no harm in asking him on a date, he reasons, and he knows Harry will understand if he wants to take it slow.

He decides he’ll figure it all out tomorrow and stops to watch Gracie sleep.  She’s so peaceful, curled into a little ball on one end of the couch.  A part of him doesn’t want to disturb her, but he knows she’ll sleep much better in her bed tonight.  Louis tiptoes over to her, carefully picking her up bridal style.  She stirs, blinking up at him blearily.  “Hey, ladybug.”

“I love you,” she whispers so softly it’s almost lost, and then she closes her eyes again, nuzzling her head into his chest.

He’s immediately overcome with a wave of emotion, more tears filling his eyes as he grins so wide he feels like his face could split in two.  He plants a kiss on the top of her head.

“I love you, too.”

*

Harry’s almost ready to leave the shop, just picking up a few things and making sure the cash register’s locked, when he hears a knock on the window.  He looks up, tucking his hair behind his ear, and there’s Louis, smiling and looking brighter than the sun under the yellow glow of the streetlights. He motions him in, stopping what he’s doing and leaning against the counter.

“Bloody fucking freezing out there,” Louis groans, shaking the snowflakes out of his hair, and his eyelashes fan out against his cheeks, looking like some sort of snow angel. Harry feels his heart jump into his chest, beating quickly.  “Not me most charming intro, but hello, Hazza.”

“Hi,” Harry answers with a laugh, trying not to preen at the use of the nickname.  “What are you doing here?  And have you brought me a treat?”  He points to the brown paper bag with the coffee shop’s logo on it in Louis’ hand and waggles his eyebrows a few times.

“For getting Gracie to speak again and for watching her yesterday,” Louis tells him earnestly, and Harry can’t stop from tearing up just a little bit, gingerly taking the bag.  “I don’t think she would’ve spoken if it wasn’t for you, so, um.  Thank you.”

“Oh, wow.”  He opens the bag to see a chocolate cupcake with vanilla buttercream frosting, turning to look at Louis with an incredulous grin. “You remembered,” he says softly, looking up at him.  He shrugs like it’s nothing, but the fact that he remembered such a silly little detail about him makes Harry feel like all his nerves are on fire.

“Of course, Curly.”

He’s quiet for a minute, taking a breath as he thinks back to Gracie’s eyes coming alive when he asked her to name the faerie, how she lit up, how even with a moment of hesitation, she knew what to call her.  “She was ready to speak,” Harry finally whispers with a nod, anything else feeling too loud for the moment.  “She wouldn’t have done it if she wasn’t ready.”

Louis tilts his head toward the faerie house, _Charlotte’s_ house.  “I reckon your faerie helped it along.”

Harry feels a familiar warmth take him over, the same way he always feels when Louis is around. “Well, ‘m glad I could help in some way.”  He rolls the paper bag down and tucks it behind the counter, dragging his fingers under his eyes before the tears can fall.  When he looks up again, Louis’ eyes are still locked on him.  He’s fidgeting with his fingers, and Harry frowns when he sees how nervous he suddenly looks, asking, “Is something wrong?”

Louis laughs, breathy and uneasy.  “Um, I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me, maybe?”  He sounds so unsure as he says it, nothing like his usual confident exterior, and a million butterflies explode into Harry’s stomach. He’s imagined Louis asking him out a thousand times over the past few days, but never once did he consider it becoming a reality.  “I’m fucking terrible at this.”  Louis chuckles anxiously again, raking his hand through his hair.  “But I’ve really enjoyed spending a bit of time with you, and I’d love to properly take you on a date.”

It takes a moment for Harry’s head to stop swimming, _LouisLouisLouis_ playing on loop, but he _thinks_ he’s nodding based on Louis’ grin, and when he finds his words again, he breathes, “I’d love to, Lou.”

He lights up even more, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, and Harry’s head over heels already. “Wicked.  What about tomorrow?  Is Italian alright?”

“’S perfect,” Harry answers with a nod, and he briefly thinks of the inevitable “I told you so” song and dance he’ll get from Gemma.  “I can close up around 6, if that’s okay with you?”

“Can’t wait.”  He checks the time on his phone, sighing slightly, and Harry knows what that means, but still doesn’t want him to go. “’Ve gotta get home to Gracie. Y’know, Dad life and all that, was just out picking up dinner for us.  Enjoy your cupcake.”

“I will,” Harry tells him with a blush.  “Please tell Gracie it was so lovely hanging out with her yesterday.”

There’s a certain warmth that Louis always emits when Harry brings up Gracie, and this isn’t an exception. It’s like the heat in the room triples when he smiles, like the embers of his heart are on display.  “Will do, Curly.  See you tomorrow.  Don’t forget!”

“I would never.”  He waves, and Louis is gone in a flash, shivering as he walks back out onto the snow dusted sidewalk.

When Louis is out of Harry’s line of sight, then and only then does he allow himself to jump up and down and scream in excitement like the grown up he is.

*

Louis meets Harry at his shop a few minutes to 6 the next night wearing a wide smile and his blue beanie that brings out his eyes.  As Harry closes up, suddenly feeling stupidly tongue-tied around this gorgeous boy, Louis explains that they should just order takeaway from his favorite Italian place and take it to his favorite, quiet, private place.

Harry agrees, feeling like sparks are flying all over, and they head out to the restaurant with Louis’ hand in his. It feels so right to have their gloved hands clasped together, like it was always supposed to be this way, and Harry can’t stop himself from grinning.  He grins even harder when Louis reaches over and pokes his dimple with his index finger.

Once they’ve gotten their food, Louis admits the place he had in mind is the coffee shop, and knowing they have it all to themselves, Harry can’t complain.  They settle in the with their dinner and a bottle of wine between them, Louis turning the lights on to a dim setting to mimic candlelight. He’s beautiful in the glow, the empty shop casting soft shadows over his face, blue eyes illuminated under the yellow lights.  There’s snow falling outside, delicate and fluffy, but Harry only feels warm all over as he digs into his eggplant parmesan while Louis pours him a glass of wine.

“So, tell me about you,” Louis says, placing the cork on top of the bottle.  He swirls his fork around his spaghetti and meatballs, and Harry smiles easily.  “Sounds like a proper cheesy line, but I want to hear it.  I know you’re the most kind and beautiful and wonderful person I’ve ever met, but I’d like some facts, y’know.”

Harry feels himself flush, immediately picking up his wine glass to hide his smile.  His mind goes back to Liam saying Gracie was Louis’ niece, and he silently hope he gets those answers tonight, even though he isn’t sure why he feels entitled to them.  “Well, what do you want to know?”  There are butterflies in his stomach as he says it, a nervous excitement to finally find out more about Louis.

He shrugs, eyes crinkling at the corners when his grin serves as his first response.  “We can start with the simple things, like when’s your birthday?”

“February 1st.  When’s yours?”

“December 24th.”

“No way!” Harry exclaims, and Louis nods.  “You’re a little Christmas miracle.”

“’S what me mum always says, but I hate it meself,” he answers with a gentle laugh.  “Always felt like I was cheated out of pressies or maybe I was just a greedy kid.”

Harry giggles, shaking his head.  “Nah, ‘m pretty sure all kids would feel the same.”

“Middle name?”

“Edward.  Yours?”

“William.”

“Harry Edward and Louis William, we sound quite royal, I reckon,” Louis replies, and Harry can’t help but laugh.  He feels lighter than air, so happy to be around him.  “The next kings, maybe?”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t take over the throne,” he says, taking a sip of his wine as he swirls it in his glass.  “I already share a name with a prince.”

“Fair point.”  Louis tilts his head, clearly racking his brain for his next question, and Harry can see the moment he thinks of it, blue eyes glittering even more than usual.  “Favorite movie?”

“Hm.  ‘M gonna sound lame, but Love Actually.  It’s a comfort.  I’ve watched it every year growing up with my family, so it just makes me think of Christmas and happiness and good things and nostalgia.”  There’s a pleasant fire stirring in his belly as he says it, watching a grin spread across Louis’ face.

“’S mine, too.”

“You’re fucking with me!”

Louis puts his hand to his heart, replying earnestly, “Swear on me mum’s life!  I watched it growing up, too, and yeah, it’s just.  Nice and makes me think of simpler times.  And Hugh Grant is proper fit.”

Giggling, Harry nods. “I’d watch him do just about anything, yeah.”

There’s a comfortable silence that falls over the two of them, and Harry uses it to study the way Louis’ eyelashes cast shadows on his cheekbones, the way his fringe falls in his face like a spiky work of art.  He clears his throat after a moment, asking, “Well, what else do you want to know?”

His answer comes without hesitation.  “Tell me the origin story of Mr. Harry Styles.”

Harry laughs loudly, sound echoing off the walls of the empty shop, and he almost apologizes until he realizes Louis is looking at him with an undeniable fondness in his eyes.  “You make it sound like I’m a superhero or summat.  My ‘origin story,’” he says, finger quotes and all, “Christ.”

Louis tries to hide a smile behind his hand but fails spectacularly, crinkles by his eyes giving him away.  “I don’t know _that_ much about you, love, for all I know, you could be one.  Maybe you’re hiding it from me.”

Harry pokes his tongue out like the mature adult he is, causing Louis to let out a laugh.  “Um, I dunno.  ‘M not a superhero, regretfully.  Can’t even fly.  But ‘ve got lovely parents who’ve always been supportive of everything I do, and I’m not the closest with my dad, but I’ve got a great stepdad.  And my mum is the most wonderful.  And you’ve met my sister.”

“She’s something,” Louis says around a bite of spaghetti, and Harry giggles a bit, taking a sip of his wine.

“She is, but I don’t know what I’d do without her.”  He looks down at his food, shrugging again.  “I had decided I wanted to be a lawyer before I went into the toy business.”

Louis’ brows quirk in interest.  “A lawyer?” he asks incredulously, and Harry nods.  “I can’t see it, if I’m honest.  Think you’re too sweet.”

Harry can feel a blush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks, forcing his eyes to stay locked on Louis’ face instead of looking away like he usually does.  “I don’t reckon I’d have been happy doing it, y’know?” he says, and Louis nods.  “I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to be, like, I had a lot of interests during school, but none of them seemed practical.  Like I told you, I auditioned for X-Factor, and I had a band and everything, but that lifestyle wasn’t for me when I actually started thinking about doing it for the rest of my life.  So, I guess I went with the most practical thing I could think of, with a steady salary and all that, and like, a few months into law school, I realized I just wasn’t happy, and I didn’t want to do that forever.”

Louis nods again, but his brows furrow slightly, painting his face with a soft look of confusion. He’s beautiful.  “How did you go from law school to toys, then, Curly?”

Harry laughs, dragging his fork through his pasta.  “’Ve always loved kids, and while I was in school, I looked after my friend’s little girl, Lux, as sort of a part-time job, and I loved taking care of her, and I guess, like.  I thought about teaching primary, but I don’t think I could’ve handled more schooling since I was so miserable studying law.  So, I guess I just decided owning my own shop was the next best thing cause I do like the business aspect of it, and I’d still get to make kids happy.  I know it’s risky to start a business from scratch, but I had enough money and I’ve got the drive to do it, I think, so...I decided to try it and ended up here.”  

“And like I said, ‘m really lucky cause I’ve got a great family that supports me – my mum facetimes me just about every day to see how things are going, which is nice but drives me a little mad. ” He and Louis share a chuckle.  “And my sister’s been here helping, and I’m so happy, honestly, so I know I’ve made the right decision because there’s nothing better than getting to make little ones happy for a living.”  He feels warm all over as he says it, thinking about the girl he sold a doll to just yesterday that left his store positively beaming as she rattled off name suggestions to her mother.

Louis smiles brighter than sunlight even in the low lighting, reaching over to brush Harry’s hand with his fingers.  He feels a chill run all the way up his spine, involuntarily shivering as he feels a grin stretch across his face.  “I’m glad you decided to come here,” Louis replies, “and I’m glad you’re happy because you deserve that.  You’re amazing, Harry.”

Harry swallows thickly, looking down at his plate.  “You are, too, Louis.”  He scoffs, shaking his head, and Harry reaches over to delicately lace their fingers together.  “What’s your story, Lou?”

His face softens, absently twirling spaghetti around his fork.  “Well, I was a bit of a pain in the arse as a kid.  Drove me mum absolutely crazy, and I wasn’t much into school, hated studying, was always slacking off and was way more into footie and telling jokes than doing any actual work.  Never really knew what I wanted to be, and I reckon that uncertainty was part of it, but I definitely had a whole lot of the faculty that were very excited to see me graduate and leave.”  Harry smiles, easily picturing a younger Louis wreaking havoc.  “I did go to uni, though, and I managed to finish, even though I did it with going to as few classes as possible.”  He chuckles as he says it, making eye contact with Harry.  “Then after uni, I worked at Niall’s coffee shop for a bit and decided I wanted to go and do more, like, I felt restricted here, so I left to venture out and do things, and I moved to the city and got a job as a bartender, and it was good, and Niall and Liam would come up and visit and we’d do pub crawls and have the absolute best times.  ‘Ve always been more of a city boy, I guess?  I’ve always wanted that out and wanted to explore, so it was really nice to get to actually do that, even if it was just for a little while.”

He’s quiet, looking down at his plate very seriously, and Harry dares to cut into the silence. “I’m sensing there’s a but,” he says softly, and Louis laughs humorlessly, nodding.

“Isn’t there always?” Louis doesn’t sound bitter, just like he’s stating a fact, as he continues on.  “And, um.  There’s seven of us.  Or, there were seven of us.”

“Seven?” Harry asks incredulously, eyes widening.

“Yeah, it usually gets that response,” Louis tells him with a genuine grin, sharp teeth on full display. “’M the oldest, five youn – er, four younger sisters, and one brother.  Mum had her hands full when I was growing up.”

“I can imagine, but I’d love a big family,” Harry says, and his heart flips when he notices Louis’ eyes flick up to meet his, something like hope lingering in the air between them. “’Ve always wanted lots of kids.”

“Yeah?” Louis quizzes, taking a sip of wine.  He looks pleased when Harry nods again, answering, “Me, too.  Um, but the oldest, who’s, um, no longer with us.”  He clears his throat like he can’t bear to say it, like the words are lead on his tongue, and Harry can feel his heart start to break.  “Charlotte, she fell pregnant unexpectedly, and she never – ”

Harry’s head swims when he hears Louis say her name, and everything else he says is drowned out by the sound of blood rushing to his ears.   _Charlotte._  He feels tears springing to his eyes, like his whole world has just been tipped off its axis, and the only thing that brings him back to earth is when he feels Louis’ fingers grip his wrist gently.  “Hazza?” he says, eyes warm with concern.  “Are you okay, love?”

Harry blinks a few times before he can nod.  “Charlotte?” His tone is brittle, and Louis nods solemnly, brows knit together in confusion.  “Like Gracie’s faerie at the shop?”

“Oh.”  He seems to sink in on himself.  “Yeah, that’s.  That was Gracie’s mum’s name.  Sorry to, um, put a damper on that.”

“ _No_ ,” Harry tells him fervently, shaking his head as he entwines his fingers with Louis’.  He runs his fingers under his eyes to wipe away the tears, sniffling a bit, always overly empathetic.  “Guess that’s another thing about me – overly emotional.”  Louis manages a watery smile, dragging his thumb softly over Harry’s hand.  “’M glad she can find comfort there, yeah?  And that my faerie gave her the courage to speak.”  Louis squeezes his hand so tightly Harry feels like his fingers will break, wiping tears from his eyes, too.  “Tell me about Charlotte, please.  If you want.”

Louis looks up at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath.  His eyes are still shining with unshed tears, blinking a few times so they fall delicately off his eyelashes.  Harry wants to wrap him up and tell him that everything will be okay, but instead, he swallows the lump that’s suddenly made home in his throat and waits for him to start. “Um, yeah, she fell pregnant unexpectedly.  She actually never told us who the father was cause she said she could do it herself, and it wouldn’t even be worth it to tell him.  She was so amazing like that...just such a bright light that everyone who ever met her fell in love with, and she chose me as Gracie’s guardian right when she was born, but nothing was ever supposed to happen because she was younger than me, like, that’s my baby sister. But then it did, and I couldn’t stay in the city, so I packed up my life and moved back here, and now I’m trying to take care of Gracie the best I can, and I’m not even sure that’s good enough.” He lets go of Harry’s hand, and it’s like he comes untethered.  “Fuck.”

Louis buries his face in his hands, and all Harry can do is lean over and rub his shoulder, whispering, “She’d be so proud of you.”  

Harry knows it’s not enough. He tries to imagine himself in Louis’ shoes, senselessly losing Gemma and trying to pick up all the pieces. He’s sure Louis has heard that same phrase countless times, and it’ll never be enough.

“Would she?” Louis asks, and there’s no fire behind it, just exhaustion.  “Because I’m not even sure she would be, Harry.  I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”  He scrubs his hands over his face, and he looks so young now, so vulnerable.  “God, I love Gracie so much, but it took so long for her to even _speak_ , and what the fuck do I even know about raising a kid on my own?  I never – I’ve always wanted to settle down someday, yeah, but not this soon.”

“You’re doing your best,” Harry says softly, and even if he can’t fully understand Louis’ situation, he gets wanting to protect everyone he loves, gets wanting to be the rock for his family.  “And that’s what she’d want from you, and that’s all you can do.  And Gracie _adores_ you, Lou, you can just tell.”  He finally grins.  “And I can tell the feeling is mutual, so you’re doing something right.”

He’s quiet, nodding and looking up at Harry gratefully.  “Jesus, ‘ve cried about my sister and my daughter all in one night and that’s all before dessert.  I’d blame the wine, but I haven’t even had enough.”

Harry chuckles, shaking his head.  He doesn’t miss the way Louis says his _daughter_ , unlike the way Liam made sure to point out Gracie was his _niece_ in the coffee shop the other day.  “And you didn’t even scare me away.  Maybe you’re just that charming, hm?”

He gives him a close lipped smile, quiet again.  “Thank you,” he tells him softly, and he reaches over to link their fingers together.  “I know this is a lot.”

“We’ve all got our shit,” Harry chuckles, and Louis presses his thumb into Harry’s wrist, a gentle pressure that makes flowers bloom behind his ribs.  “’S okay. That’s so brave of you to take that on, Lou.”

“Gracie loves you,” Louis says, seeming happy to take the attention away from himself, and Harry shakes his head, feeling a blush creep onto his cheeks.  “No, she does.  She wouldn’t have stayed with you if she didn’t.  She’s really taken to you.”

“She’s a great girl.” Harry takes a small sip of wine.  “She’s lucky to have you, yeah?”

“I like to think so,” Louis answers, “but I know I’m lucky to have her.”

“You’ve got a good heart, Lou.”

“Takes one to know one, Haz.”

Harry feels a fire burn in the pit of his stomach, smiling down into his food.  It feels safe and comfortable sitting here together, and even when they’re not speaking, there’s no awkwardness to it, no desire to fill the silence.  They’re content just to sit and look at each other with stars in their eyes, and Harry wants to spend forever with Louis – there’s no doubt in his mind.

They spend the rest of the night chatting like they’ve known each other for years, laughing and flirting like schoolboys helplessly in love.  When they’re finished with dinner, Louis sneaks behind the counter to make them both hot chocolate, and they leave the shop with their bellies full and feeling warm all over.

They walk hand in hand to the tiny house Harry shares with Gemma, snow floating down in gigantic fluffy flakes that make Harry feel like he’s in some sort of winter fairytale, feel like he’s _in love_. The cold doesn’t even bother him because he feels so electric from being around Louis, like he’ll never be able to stop smiling.  Harry almost slips on the icy ground at one point, but Louis is there to catch him, gently tugging on one of his curls and whispering, “What are we gonna do with you, Bambi?” and keeps his arm tightly wrapped around Harry’s middle for the rest of the walk.

It feels like a dream.

There’s nothing he wants more than to spend the rest of his life with Louis Tomlinson and little Gracie.

“So,” Louis says, dropping Harry’s hand as they stand outside the door.  He’s grinning, and Harry squirms slightly under his gaze that almost feels like a spotlight, tugging his beanie further down over his ears. “I really enjoyed spending time with you, Haz.”

“I, um.  I really like you,” Harry tells him, feeling a sudden surge of bravery take him over.  He feels his cheeks burn as he says it, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “And tonight was really wonderful.”

Louis looks positively golden under the streetlight illuminating them, and he nods, laughing when Harry breathes out a sigh of relief.  “‘M glad I finally got to hear your origin story.  You’re looking a bit like Rudolph there, though, Curly,” he laughs, poking Harry’s nose that’s no doubt gone red from the cold.  “Better get you inside so you don’t freeze.”

Harry laughs, sound ricocheting off the emptiness of the street.  The world around them goes quiet, everything glistening and blanketed in a light snow.  They don’t break eye contact, and after a few moments, Louis starts to lean in, and Harry takes in a breath of surprise.  He can feel his heart in his throat when their lips collide.

Louis’ lips are cold and chapped, but there’s so much fire between them as Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ neck.  Louis’ gloved hands are scratchy on Harry’s cheeks, but it doesn’t matter because there’s a beautiful boy kissing him while snow falls down around them like they’re in the scene of a snow globe, and everything is soft, soft, soft.

They pull away, and Harry bites his kiss swollen lip, looking at Louis like a lovesick teenager. He feels his heart fluttering like there’s a dynamite exploding in his chest and rose petals daintily dropping around them, and he’s ready to pull Louis right back in for another kiss when he really takes in the look on his face.  It’s unreadable – he’s totally blank, and Harry feels like he’s looking through him instead of at him.

“Lou?”

“We can’t,” he says simply, shaking his head fervently.

Harry’s stomach drops as he scrambles to find words.  He reaches out to touch Louis’ arm, fingers brushing over the material of his coat, desperately asking, “What?  What’s wrong? Was it something I – ”

“It’s too fast,” Louis tells him, and he’s looking away now, choosing to look at the sidewalk instead of him.  Harry’s brows draw together in confusion because he thought he was ready for this, thought that was why he asked, and nothing makes sense anymore.  “Harry, it’s just too fast.  I have Gracie to think about, and ‘m a dad now, and it’s not just me, and I can’t be in a relationship, too – I.”  He takes in a breath, looking incredibly forlorn, and Harry blinks back tears.  “I can’t do this, not yet.”

He feels so selfish for wanting Louis to throw caution to the wind and give their relationship a chance. He knows Gracie is the most important thing to Louis – he’d never ask to be first – but he just doesn’t understand _why_ Louis can’t choose both of them when he clearly doesn’t want to end this here.  The look on his face says he wants this, but his words are telling a different story.  Harry wants to challenge him, wants to ask how they can work through this, but the last thing he wants to do is overstep.  Nothing makes sense, and it’s frustrating and contradictory, and Harry feels awful.  

“I understand, Lou,” he murmurs, and he doesn’t, not really, but he doesn’t want to lose any kind of chance he has with him.  “You have to do what’s best for you and Gracie.  I’ll see you ‘round, then.  Tell Gracie she’s welcome to visit her faerie any time she wants.”

Louis looks at him, nodding slowly, and he looks like there’s something he wants to say.  Giving him the benefit of the doubt, Harry waits for a moment, but no words follow.  With a sigh, he starts to walk up the path to the house when Louis grabs his arm.  He turns, and there are tears in Louis’ eyes, and Harry can’t figure out why they have to end it here, not when Louis looks like his world is crumbling.  “I’m really sorry, Harry.”

“Me too.”

He walks up the few stairs to the door and stares at the wood for a few seconds, trying to regain his composure.  He just had the most wonderful date with the boy of his dreams, and he still doesn’t understand why it had to end this way.  Tears are threatening to spill over his cheeks, and he doesn’t want to cry, doesn’t want to act so selfish and stupid.  With a deep breath, he opens the door, not bothering to look and see if Louis is still frozen in place on the sidewalk.

“I saw a kiss!” Gemma squeals the second he walks in the door, and she’s grinning ear to ear, practically throwing herself on him in excitement.  It’s a stark contrast to the sadness in his own head, to the scene that played out just outside the door.  “There was a kiss!  Was it the greatest of your life?  Did you see stars?  Rainbows? Hearts?”

Harry looks at the floor, bringing his fingers up to gingerly touch his lips.  He can still taste Louis – can taste the wine and a faint essence of sweetness.  It feels so _unfair_.

“Haz?” Gemma asks, and the smile’s fallen off her face as she gently clasps his forearm.

He takes in a breath. “He said it’s too fast.”  The words sting his mouth when he says them out loud, sounding too harsh to his own ears, and Gemma just wraps him up in her arms, rubbing his back like their mum used to do when he got upset as a kid. “Everything was perfect, and then he said it was too soon,” he whispers in her ear, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears pressing up against his eyelids.  He lets them spill over his cheeks with a defeated sigh.

Gemma pulls away, face sympathetic as she wipes away the tears with the pad of her thumb.  “Why don’t you put your pajamas on and then we can find something crap on telly, alright?”  Harry nods, feeling hollow, but he starts toward his bedroom anyway.

“Haz?” she calls softly, and he turns around.  “He’ll come around.”

He can only hope.

*

The next few days pass by for Louis in a fog.  He’s miserable and snappy, and he knows exactly why even if he refuses to admit it to himself.  Liam and Niall urge him to talk, try to get him to tell them what happened that night, but he stays quiet.  He can’t bear to tell them that it was him that fucked everything up, that he was a coward and now he has to face the consequences.

He catches Gracie looking at him curiously sometimes.  She’s smart and knows he’s not himself even if she doesn’t know why, but when he tells her they can’t stop at the toy shop one day when she asks, he’s pretty sure she easily puts two and two together.

Louis isn’t sure what came over him when he shut Harry down - he loved every second he spent with Harry, every dimpled smile, every loud, honking laugh, and when their lips met, it was like streamers had exploded in his chest, but he was _scared_.  Gracie had already gotten so attached to Harry in the short time they’d known him, and what if one day, it all fell apart?  And Gracie would have to watch someone else so important to her leave?  He knows he should’ve given Harry more credit, knows Harry would never intentionally hurt either of them, but all he could think of was protecting Gracie, and the best way to do that was to stop anything from going further, no matter how much he wants it.

His brain won’t let him forget how hurt Harry looked just before he walked away.  He keeps seeing tear-filled eyes and pouted pink lips, and he hates knowing that he was the one to make him so upset.  He doesn’t even want to imagine how Harry feels about the whole thing - it feels like a physical blow to the stomach when he thinks about just how unfair he was.

It’s just - he can see it all so clearly, his future with Harry and Gracie, how seamlessly Harry fits into every part of his life, and he’s never been able to do that with anyone before, never been able to see the rest of his life all planned out so clearly.  All he’s done over the past few weeks is picture his forever with Harry, and when he tried to make it a reality, he let it slip away.  It’s overwhelming, and his feelings are all-encompassing, but he realizes how important it is not to run from the things you care about most.

He wants to fix it, wants to explain himself and make everything right but he’s not entirely sure where to start.

He’s making Gracie a sandwich for lunch, and his mind is just floating off, not able to focus on anything.  He’s felt like that most of the time lately.

“You’re sad.”

Gracie’s tiny voice pulls him out of his thoughts and back to reality.  Louis looks behind him to see her with her hands on her hips, the spitting image of her mother.  He’s still not entirely used to her talking, but it’s the most welcome sound in the world.

“What makes you say that, ladybug?”  

“You’re sad about Harry,” Gracie whispers, and he sighs, a part of him wishing she wasn’t so smart and intuitive.  

He knows there’s no use in lying to her, so he leaves the half-made sandwich on the counter and heads over to sit at the kitchen table, motioning her to get in his lap.  She runs over, scooting into his lap, and he wraps his arm around her waist, smoothing his hand over her hair gently.  “‘S complicated, love.”  He knows it’s a weak reply, so he adds on, “‘M a little sad about it all, though, yeah.”

“Why?” Gracie asks, head tilted.

Louis tries to think of how to simplify it, how to tell her that she’s indirectly the reason for all of it but that it still isn’t her fault, how he just worries way too much about everything.  “I made a mistake,” he confesses.  “But that happens sometimes.  Grown-ups are silly, aren’t they?”

“They are,” she agrees with a nod.  “You just have to tell Harry you’re sorry!  That’s how you fix mistakes!”

He smiles at her, about to reply when she cuts right to the chase: “Do you love him?”

Louis is taken by surprise at the question, not expecting that to be the next thing Gracie asked him.  He fishmouths for a second, before settling on, “yes.”

It’s the first time he’s really admitted it to himself, really let himself come to terms with the fact that he’s totally in love with Harry Styles, and with a sigh, he repeats, “Yeah, Gracie, I love him.”

Gracie grins at him, and suddenly she looks too wise beyond her years, like she’s got all the answers in that tiny little head of hers, and maybe she does.  “If you love him, Papa, why don’t you be with him?”

He laughs because that’s the fantasy, isn’t it, where everything works out perfectly, but he’s gone and fucked everything up, and he has her take care of, his first priority, and and he may be in love with Harry, but.

Thinking about it further, Louis isn’t sure why there has to be a but.  

“That’s a good question, love,” he laughs, and when she puts it like that, so simply, _if you love him, Papa, why don’t you be with him?_ It seems like that’s the answer, to go fix things with Harry and get his forever, his happily ever after and -

“Papa?” Louis breathes.  His response is belated, but his head is reeling, replaying her sentence over and over in his head to try to process it all.  She called him _Papa_.  

“Is that okay?” Gracie whispers, eyes wide like she’s unsure, and she’s got no reason to be - he’d go to the ends of the earth for her.  “Will you be my dad?”

And there it is - the affirmation that he’s done something right, that she loves him enough to want him to be her _dad_ , and oh, god, his heart could beat right out of his body.

Louis wraps his arms around her and pulls her to his chest, holding her as tightly as he can.  There are tears in his eyes as he kisses her head, grinning from ear to ear.  “Of course I will be, ladybug, of course.  Nothing would make me happier than being your Papa.”

Gracie hugs him even tighter, nuzzling into his chest.  He feels like he could fly, like everything he’s done for Gracie has culminated to this moment, and yeah, he’s her _Papa_.  

“Harry being your boyfriend would make you happy,” she giggles, and when Louis gasps, the look on her face says she knows exactly how cheeky she’s being and is completely and utterly unapologetic.

“You’re right, little love,” he chuckles, kissing her head again.

“Then what are you waiting for, Papa?  Go get him!”

*

Lying on the couch in Hello Kitty pajama bottoms with a bowl of popcorn on his lap, Harry groans when he hears the doorbell.  He doesn’t want to deal with anyone, and that’s the reason Gemma insisted she take over at the shop today while he stayed home and got himself back in check.  He hasn’t really been himself since the “Louis incident” as Gemma so lovingly calls it, but he supposes it’s normal to be a little out of sorts when you’ve had your heart properly broken.

He still just doesn’t _understand_ why Louis gave up so easily in that moment, especially when they clearly had something special.  Harry saw him walking by his shop with Gracie yesterday, saw her eyes light up as they passed, but Louis hurried her away, putting both hands on her shoulders to steer her in the other direction.  It felt like Harry had truly crumbled.

He sighs as he gets up, leaving the bowl on one of the cushions, and he runs his hands through his hair a few times to make himself look semi-presentable.

When he opens the door, all his breath is knocked out of him, eyes widening as he gasps for air like he can’t get any into his lungs.

“Louis.”

He smiles - he has the audacity to smile, looking more beautiful than ever - and he’s like a warm mug of coffee on a cold day as he rasps, “Hi, Curly.”

Harry ushers him in beyond his better judgment, not wanting him to freeze to death, and when he closes the door behind him, Louis is staring at him fondly, smile on his face.  “Why are you here?” Harry asks carefully, feeling like he’s walking on eggshells.  His tone comes out sharper than he intends it to, and Louis’ smile falters slightly.  For a moment, Harry’s pleased with himself, but he knows he could never be that cruel, and clearly Louis wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have something to say.

“Look, I’m just gonna say it,” Louis laughs nervously, nothing like how comfortable the two of them were just a few nights ago.  “I was a proper fucking dick.”

Harry bellows out a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand.  “You said it, not me.”  Louis chuckles, looking a little more at ease when his eyes crinkle at the corners the way Harry loves.

Louis wrings his hands, looking down at the floor.  When he finally brings himself to make eye contact with Harry, he looks so sincere that Harry wants to fold right there and forget about everything that happened.  He can’t do that, can’t let it all slide, so he says softly, “Why did you…”  He leaves it ambiguous, choosing to finish the sentence with a vague hand gesture.

“I was scared.”  His voice is so small, and Harry’s brows furrow.  “Dunno, really, in that moment I started thinking about what would happen if it didn’t work out between us.  Gracie’s already lost her mum, and she’s already so attached to you that if you ever were to leave, then she’d have to deal with that, too, and that’s on me, then, disappointing her.”

Harry’s heart drops when he hears the reasoning, and he reaches out to touch Louis’ arm softly.  “Lou…”  Louis shakes his head, fingers brushing over Harry’s. “I know she’ll always be your first priority, I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

He smiles but shakes his head again.  “Well, thank you, but ‘s bullshit, if I’m honest.  I should’ve given you more credit, and I was thinking ten steps ahead and couldn’t even see what was right in front of me.”  Louis walks toward Harry, and they’re close, too close now.  Harry can feel the heat radiating off of Louis like a furnace, like he’s standing too close to a star.  Louis reaches out to tangle their fingers together, and Harry swallows audibly, pushing his hair behind his ear.  “Gracie loves you, Haz, and she’s taken to you in a way she doesn’t take to many people, and this whole parenting thing is new to me, but I’m pretty sure if I love someone just as much as she does, I shouldn’t let them get away, yeah?”

“You love me?” Harry asks, and his voice sounds far away.  His heart is beating so fast he can hear the blood pumping in his ears, and every second that passes feels like an eternity.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “Yeah, I love you, Harry.  And ‘ve known it from the first time I saw you with Gracie in your shop.  You’re just - you’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’ve planned our future together, like, nine hundred bloody times.”  Harry’s eyes are filling with tears, happy ones this time, as he giggles and waits for Louis to continue.  “I know I come with a lot of baggage, and that’s not the easiest thing to deal with, but if you’re willing to look past that and forget the fact that I was an utter tit the other night, then - ”

“I love you, too,” Harry tells him, and the apples of his cheeks are hurting from how big he’s grinning.  It looks like a weight is lifted off Louis’ shoulders when he says it back, and he lets out a sigh of relief that makes Harry laugh and drag a finger under his eyes to catch the tears.  “I love Gracie, too.  Both of you.”

“I’d really like to kiss you,” Louis says, blue eyes sparkling, and Harry nods, grin growing when Louis gently pokes at one of his dimples.

“Please do.”

Louis cups Harry’s face in his hands softly, softly, and when their lips meet, it’s like Christmas and birthdays and the best things in life and all the fireworks in the world exploding behind them.

But above all, it’s a lot like forever.


	2. Epilogue

“Gracie, c’mon, petal, you’re not gonna have any time for breakfast!” Harry calls to her, and he tosses Louis an apple across the kitchen to add to her lunchbox, then goes back to scrambling the eggs.  Louis smiles to himself, thinking that they’re a bit of a dream team, really, always in perfect sync with each other.

“Coming, Daddy!” her little voice yells out from the other room, and Louis doesn’t miss the way Harry’s mouth twitches into a smile, still melting every time she calls him that.  That’s how Louis knows he found his most perfect match, his  _ soulmate. _

“How is she in year two already?” Louis asks with a slight pout as he zips up her lunchbox – pale pink this year since she’s more grown up – and Harry smiles, pulling Gracie’s Tinkerbell plate out of the cupboard and scooping her some eggs.   “She’s getting so big.”

“This must mean  _ we’re _ proper old now if we have a daughter this old, aren’t we?” Harry asks, dimples popping out as Louis plants a kiss on his cheek.

“Never, baby, we’re forever young.”  

Harry manages to look like a dream even in joggers and an old t-shirt, bun tangled and falling out, face still soft with sleep.  He stifles a yawn with the back of his hand as he waits for the toast to be done, and it’s then he catches Louis staring.  

“What?”

“I just love you, y’know.”

“I just love you, too.”

It’s amazing just how much can change in a year, and Louis is grateful for it every day.  It feels like just yesterday he was fantasizing about living with Harry and getting to wake up with him every morning, and now it’s his reality.  They bought a flat together a few months ago, and he loves his little family, loves how they fit together like puzzle pieces, loves watching Harry with Gracie and see how great fatherhood looks on him.  He fell into it so easily, and Louis doesn’t think he could love him more if he tried.

It’s only within the past few weeks that Gracie’s taken to calling Harry ‘Daddy’ and the first time she did, he waited until she was in bed before crying happy tears into Louis’ chest, thanking him for letting him into their lives.

Louis feels like the luckiest person in the world.

“Gracie, come on,” Louis tuts again as Harry puts her plate on the table, adding a few slices of toast, and she scampers into the kitchen immediately in her school uniform looking all too grown up.

Before acknowledging either of them, she goes right over to the faerie house that’s now on display in their flat.  “Good morning, Charlotte,” she whispers, and there’s a grin on her face as she says it, closing her eyes for a moment and taking in a deep breath like Harry did when he first showed her the house so long ago.

At first, Gracie was worried Charlotte wouldn’t like it if they moved her house, but Harry reassured her that Charlotte will follow her anywhere and that she’s her forever friend. With her mind at ease, she granted them permission to move it into the flat, and she makes sure to talk to her faerie every morning and every night.  Louis doesn't think he’ll ever be able to repay Harry for this, but Harry assures him he never has to.

Once she’s properly greeted her faerie, she turns to Harry and Louis wearing a smile before plopping down at the table.  “Good morning, Papa, good morning, Daddy!”

“Are you all ready for school today, ladybug?” Louis asks as he and Harry join her.

“I’m all ready!  This year is gonna be the  _ best _ ,” she cheers around a mouthful of toast, and Harry gently reminds her, “don’t speak with your mouth full, darling.”  She nods quickly before launching into a story about how she has the best teacher in the  _ whole school _ and now she gets extra time at the library to get her favorite books, and while she’s rambling on and on, Harry listening intently, Louis’ mind can’t help but float back to only a year ago.  

A year ago when she wouldn’t even speak on her first day of school, when Louis was so, so scared to even drop her off and let her spend the day there, and now she’s a beautiful little butterfly who’s ready to spread her wings.  He knows Charlotte would be so proud of her, so proud of him, and Harry always makes sure to honor her memory.  Louis really couldn’t ask for more.

She finishes her breakfast relatively quickly, so excited to get out the door.  Louis feels a thousand different emotions as he watches her, seeing how happy and well-adjusted she is now.  He almost can’t believe she’s the same Gracie.

After making sure she has packed everything she needs for her big day, the three of them head out the door for the short walk to school.  Gracie gets between Harry and Louis, grabbing each of their hands and swinging them back and forth.  “You’re gonna be good today, right?” Louis asks her, and she rolls her eyes at him, nodding.

“Of course, Papa.”

“And you’re gonna be polite and kind and share with the other kids?” Harry adds on, and she nods dutifully again.

“Yes, Daddy.”

When they reach her classroom, Louis feels familiar nerves flood his stomach.  He’s still nervous – he always will be – but this time he’s got Harry, who loves Gracie just as much as he does, by his side for moral support, and he’s got a happy daughter who couldn’t be more ecstatic to start school.

Harry and Louis say their goodbyes and see Gracie off with lots of hugs and kisses, promising they’ll both be there to pick her up when the day’s over.  It makes Louis smile to watch her run into the classroom and introduce herself to the little boy sitting next to her, thinking about just how far she’s come.

He’s quiet on the walk back, Harry’s hand tucked in his, and he’s quiet, reflecting.

When his world fell apart, he never, ever thought he’d be here, never thought he could help Gracie be happy again, never thought he’d find someone as wonderful and accepting and loving as Harry, never thought he’d be  _ whole _ again, but he’s here now.  Thinking about it, he finds himself welling up a little, looking over at Harry and thanking everything in the universe that led him here.

“Lou?  Are you okay?” he asks softly, squeezing a little tighter at his hand.

He smiles, wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist and leaning into him, feeling lighter than air and so in love.  “Yeah.  Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos mean the absolute world and are very, very much appreciated :) xx
> 
> You can come talk to me on [tumblr](http://daintyharru.tumblr.com) (I'd love you all to!), and the link to the rebloggable post is [here](http://daintyharru.tumblr.com/post/154005891771/i-just-know-i-have-found-the-place-my-heart) :)


End file.
